


Killing Me Softly

by Wolfhound159



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-05 23:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfhound159/pseuds/Wolfhound159
Summary: Enchanted Forest AU. Emma is a knight in Queen Regina's army, hard headed and stubborn and fighting against the Queen. Regina is refined and obviously deserves the finer things in life. They seem to have a delicate dance, a tension blooming between them. But between secrets and fears and Cora and Robin, will their love survive against the odds?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Killing Me Softly - Manips](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482697) by [Dragoon23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoon23/pseuds/Dragoon23). 

> Big thanks to artist Dragoon23!!!!!! Absolutely amazing and incredible!!!!!!! You are a wonderful artist and it was a pleasure working with you!!!!!!!!! Give lots of love and kudos to this fabulous person who had to deal with my shitty procrastinating butt!!!!!!! Absolutely wonderful!!!!!!

Sunlight streamed down from the tops of the trees, glittering in green and gold. It was almost midday and the heat was getting stronger. It was nearer to Autumn, the brilliant green leaves on the trees are starting to turn orange, speckling the forest with golden rays that glimmered in the breeze. Although the air was starting to cool, it was suffocating, the sweat evaporating on her skin before it has a chance to cool her down. A young girl, of almost 12 winters, raced through the trees after her mother, her blonde hair flying behind her, sparkling in the sun.

The woman stopped, her long matted black hair flowing over her shoulders, crouching behind a tall tree. The deep brown fur of her outfit blending into the bark as she pulled out an arrow from the quiver on her back. She set it against her bow, holding it relaxed as she waited. The girl sat beside her, her brows furrowing as she watched her with unwavering attention.

“Mother?” She whispered, speaking slowly, waiting to be shushed.

The woman sighed, sparing a questioning look to the blonde at her side. “Yes, Emma?”

“After this one, we’re stopping, right?”

Silence, save for the birds singing up above them, the rustle of the leaves against the gentle breeze. Emma bent forward, reaching over to try to look her in the eyes.

“Emma.” The woman reprimanded, her green eyes sharp as she shot Emma a look, pushing her back behind her and out of her eyesight with a hand on her shoulder. “Drop it.”

“You promised.” Emma stood, taking a step away from her. “You promised that this will be the last time we hurt people, steal from them. You promised that we were going to get away, start over.”

“And we will,” The mother looked at the girl over her shoulder, “We just have to see how much we get from this hit.”

“And then we’ll stop?”

“Then we’ll stop and we’re moving far far away from Misthaven.” The woman smiled, standing and walking to the young girl, caressing her cheek. “We’ll hire a ship to take us and have our own adventure, how about that?”

Emma tilted her head, her eyes flashing across her mother’s eyes, a soft smile twisting up the corners of her mouth. The wheels of a royal carriage clattering on rocks echoed through the forest, coming closer to them. Emma watched as her mother turned back to the road, going to her hiding spot and pulling her bow tight. Below them, on the road, the carriage stopped in front of a fallen tree. The coachman hopped off, falling on his face, an arrow sticking out of his back. One by one, the four soldiers clad in black armor surrounding the carriage fell, Emma’s mother unleashing the arrows with almost inhuman speed.

Emma watched as her mother raced down the slope. She tried to follow, her dress getting caught among one of the branches and ripping. Emma watched as her mother went around to each of the soldiers, pulling out the arrows with a squelsh. She counted the coins she found in their pockets before looking at the carriage, a huge grin on her face.

“We did it Emma.”

“So we can stop?”

“Almost! There’s another carriage coming through the day after morrow, with  _ double _ the gold here.” She crouched down to be eye level with Emma, her hands wrapping around Emma’s shoulders, keeping her still. Dull emerald eyes shining with childish glee into small bright green eyes. “If we hit that one, we could afford to  _ buy _ our own ship instead of having to rely on some dirty pirate.”

“But-”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawled from behind them. The mother turned on her heels, her arms flying to pull her bow from her shoulders. She was stopped, her arms clasped at her side almost as if bound by invisible ropes. Emma watched in shock as her mother started to levitate off of the ground, high in the sky. “It seems I found the elusive Bandit Snow White.”

The woman was wearing a long black dress, her hair gathering at the top of her head. Her small eyes were piercing, looking over Snow. Her red lips were drawn in a tight smile, but the intensity of her eyes sent a cold shiver down Emma’s spine, goosebumps rising on her skin. Emma recognized her, of course. Who wouldn’t recognize the terrifying Queen Cora.

“Please,” Snow strained out, gasping as her lungs felt like collapsing in her chest.

“Leave her alone!” Emma rushed out, racing towards the Queen in an attempt to push her away. Cora looked down at the blonde hurricane barreling after her and she rolled her eyes, flicking her wrist and sending Emma slamming into the side of the carriage with a scream.

Emma felt the air leave her lungs, her arms snapping to her sides as she was lifted high in the air. The more she struggled to move, the more it hurt and the more her arms were dug deeper into her.

“Now then,” Cora lifted her chin, an air of annoyance in her posture. “Care to explain to me why my soldiers are dead?”

“We needed the money.” Emma gasped, grunting against the binds.

“So stealing it from the crown was your best option?” Cora sneered, “You two have been a pest at my side for far too long. I think it’s time to get rid of you once and for all.”

“No!” Snow gasped as she was pulled back down, her body kneeling in front of the Queen as she dug her hand into her chest, pulling out a glowing red heart. With a wicked smirk, Cora crushed the heart to ashes, shaking her hand to get rid of the dust. Emma watched with a sob as her mother collapsed on the ground, her eyes wide and tearful, her mouth opened in a gasp of pain.

“Stop your crying child, you’ll ruin your dress.” Cora caressed a wet cheek, her face almost distorted in disgust. With a quick look to Emma’s outfit, to the rip that reached just above her knee, as a scowl crossed her face, “Or what’s left of it anyway.”

“You killed my mom.” Emma whimpered, looking up at the Queen, “I loved her.”

Cora huffed, a tight smile on her lips, “Foolish child. Love is weakness. You should be thanking me for getting rid of that example for you. Maybe now you’ll be a contributing member of the kingdom. Hm?”

“I’ll never bow to you.” Emma looked up at her, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout, her chin wavering as she tried to fight back the sobs.

“Then I have no use for you.” Cora dug her hand in Emma’s small chest. A cry of pain escaping her lips. She could feel the burn of the hand in her chest, pushing through her lungs to wrap burning digits around her heart. Cora pulled tugging Emma forward, but the heart stayed permanently in her chest. Emma looked down confused, her eyes wide as she looked back up to Cora’s face. Cora was looking at her hand in Emma’s chest, her eyes squinting, her brows furrowed in almost disbelief. She pulled again, but the heart refused to budge. A bright white light starting to radiate from her chest, blasting Cora away, into the carriage, while Emma flew across the road, her back and head hitting the trunk of a solid tree with a loud snap.

Emma pushed against the wood, her head thundering and sending shocks of pain through her body. Cora was lying unconscious beside the carriage. Emma’s vision darkened, she took a deep breath, and succumbed to the darkness.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_ 17 years later. _

In the center of an enormous courtyard, in a large ring of sand, stood two soldiers wielding dull practice swords. A man with curly brown hair that fell to his forehead, thin strands shining curling black, dripping sweat down his forehead and into his sky blue eyes. He was crouched low, his sword twirling in his hand, his armor sparkling in the morning sun with each slight movement he made.

Emma smirked, her eyes narrowing against the light hitting her eyes. She had her long blonde hair tied back with a leather ribbon. Strands of it stuck to her face and neck, sticking on like glue, a gentle weight that threatened to choke her. She raised an eyebrow, the chainmail jingling against her chest, the leather armor wrapped loosely against her arms and chest. She tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword, her vision narrowing, as she focused in on the soldier in front of her. She rolled her shoulders back, the tense muscles burning against the movement. 

The soldier dove forward, swinging his sword high. Emma stepped back, raising her blade to block his, the clang reverberating, the sword trembling in her grip, a shockwave racing up her bloodstream, making her teeth vibrate. The corner of her lip curled up as her eyes darted over her opponent’s stance. She pushed, using her weight to shove his sword away from her. She faked a swing, stopping just before their swords clashed again before she crouched low, taking his legs out from underneath him, sending him flying backwards on his back. She kicked the sword away, standing straighter, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

“That was a dirty move, Swan.” He spat, raising up on his elbows to look her in the eyes, an easy smirk on his lips.

“Maybe, but it I still won.” Emma tossed her blade to the ground, using the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her mouth. “Besides, the soldiers from the other kingdoms aren’t going to play fair. Why should we?”

Emma offered her hand, gripping his forearm tight as she pulled him up on his feet. She patted his shoulder, taking strides to the nearest bench and raising her waterskin to her chapped lips. Her mouth was dry, her throat begging for the lukewarm liquid. She sucked in greedy gulps, her breathing coming out ragged, but it still wasn’t enough, the waterskin came up empty after three gulps and her mouth still begged for more.

“Where did you say you were from again?”

“Nowhere.” Emma hooked the empty waterskin to her hip, focusing on tying the leather armor tighter, the straps were lighter in the bends, history carved into the material.

“You must be from somewhere,” He continued, raising his foot onto the bench, leaning on his thigh. His eyes trailed over her form, she pretended to ignore the holes he was burning into her skin. “What part of the kingdom did you say you were from again?”

Emma turned to face him, her smile tight and a dangerous fire in her eyes. “What are you getting at Graham?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering. You know you’ve become something of a mystery here.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. A beautiful woman like you coming out of the woods, applying to be a soldier. Not only are women seldom in the ranks much less know her way around a weapon, but you, you’ve bested us all with the sword. No one knows where you’re from, and no town has heard of an Emma Swan.”

Emma rolled her eyes with a scoff, “If you’ve applied that time spent asking around about me to practice with your sword, maybe any one of you could beat me in a sparr.”

Graham just watched her, an easy calmness in his smile. Emma took a deep breath, picking up her sword and strapping it on her hip. Emma turned on her heels, squinting up at the castle before starting to head down the cobble path.

The courtyard was wide, spanning as far as the eye could see. Towards the right was the stables, a private section reserved only for the Queen’s prized steed Rocinante, while the rest was filled to the brim with horses for the soldiers. To the left were the shelters, a hobble slightly bigger than a tavern where the soldiers kept their belongings on a hook. There wasn’t much on private belongings, those they kept on their person every hour of the day, or underneath the cot to sleep in during the night.

Ahead of her, the castle loomed over, daunting and expansive. It always sent a cold shiver up her spine when she looked at it, giving her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. As if, somehow, the castle itself was constantly looking over her shoulder, watching her carefully, waiting for her to make a mistake. She passed a couple soldiers making their rounds and raised her hand in greeting.

She pushed the heavy oak door open with ease, holding it for a maid holding a large tray of rice to pass outside, before she slipped inside. The kitchen was wide and hot, a fire burning constantly on the sides, where the pots and pans where bubbling and whistling day and night. In the center was a large table, on one side, three servants spent their time chopping, peeling, and dicing lettuce, cheese, squash, vegetables of all colors and sizes. On the other was the head chef, a stocky elderly woman with an easy smile and sharp eyes, preparing the meat. On the wall behind her were most of the dishes set to cool, ready and pristine. Emma stole a roll of bread from a basket, shoving it in her mouth before the woman noticed. She chewed quickly, smiling as the warm crust melted on her tongue.

Emma ducked out of the kitchen, navigating through the hidden corridors, the map burned into her memory, her footsteps silent against the creaking wood of the stairs beneath her. She stopped in front of a door, pushing it gently as it groaned under her fingers, opening with a deep whine. She stepped out into the hallway, the tiles clicking at her heels, and the door closed away, hidden from sight with a soft sigh. The walls were a light violet, fleur de lis speckled around in a pattern. The ceiling was high, the walls curving to meet in a sharp archway. Emma kept her eyes trained to the glittering double doors of the throne room. The light from the wide floor to ceiling windows illuminating every inch of the deep woods, framed with gold decorative plates.

“Bored?” A low gentle voice sounded from behind Emma, causing her to jump, spinning wildly, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword, her hair whipping around smacking her on the other side of her face. She froze when she saw Queen Regina, standing in front of her. Her hands flew to her sides, as if the metal of her sword had burnt her. Regina was watching her with an amused smirk, her eyes roaming over Emma’s dirty leather armor and sweaty skin, before snapping to stare at her emerald eyes.

“Your Majesty?”

Regina hummed, taking a step closer. Emma stiffened, her shoulders back. She raised her chin, staring into dangerous piercing eyes. Her brow was furrowed, her chocolate eyes flickering around Emma’s face, a silent question swimming in them. “Who are you again?”

“Emma,” Her voice was strong, all the bravado she didn’t truly felt. “Emma Swan.”

“Em-ma.” Regina smiled, her hand reaching out to cup her chin, moving her head left to right in appraisal. “So you’re the one that my soldiers keep talking about.”

“Your Majesty?”

“You’ve made quite a name for yourself in my ranks.”

“Thank you,” Emma’s lips curled upwards into a satisfying smirk.

“Well, Lady Swan, I have a meeting to get to with an old friend of mine. I’m sure you won’t mind joining me as a guard.”

“Should I get a group ready?”

“Why bother?” Regina raised an eyebrow, already taking a step back, “If you’re as good as they say, then accompanying your Queen on your own should be child’s play compared to rolling around in the sand. Or are you afraid I’m going to bite you?”

“You don’t scare me.” Emma blurted, her eyes flickering quickly over Regina’s scowling face. “Your majesty,” She added, softer, to try to lessen the bite.

“Your ignorance makes you brave. You’re lucky I’m in quite a forgiving mood, or the next time you’re sharp, you’ll find yourself missing a tongue.”

“Thank you, my queen.”

Regina frowned, muttering disdainfully, “Get the horses prepared, we leave within the hour.”

* * *

  
  


There was a small cobblestone path, far too narrow for any carriage to pass through easily, but enough to ride comfortably. Surrounding the path were evergreens, baby’s breath littering the bright green with white, and hanging from the tops to graze their shoulders, its soft bittersweet fragrance wafting through the air around them. Emma was holding onto the reins to the large white horse tighter than should be expected. The gauntlets she wore were cutting into her skin, marking their slits onto her hands. Her spine was stiff and rigid, her brow furrowed in apprehension as she stared at the animal beneath her. Her heart was thundering in her chest, a bitter acid threatening to choke her, rising in her throat.

“Surely, you don’t think the horse is going to bite you as well?”

Emma looked up, her eyes frantic as she watched the Queen frowning at her, over her shoulder. Although she was sitting upright, her back straight against the curve of the horse’s back, her shoulders were relaxed, her hands gently caressing the shoulder of the animal. Emma swallowed, blinking rapidly. “It can do that?”

“Bite?”

Emma nodded slowly, all too aware of the sword digging into her hip, of the sweat slowly rolling down her forehead, her breaths catching in her helmet, the steam warming her face against the heat of the sun.

Regina threw her head back and let out a low laugh, one that somehow curved the corners of Emma’s lips upwards, her shoulders slowly easing from their clenched position. Emma watched as Regina’s raven hair glowed almost a deep wine red in the sunlight, it cascaded freely over her back, reaching her hips. The deep red silk of the tight full length sleeve dress flowing down to the sides, grazing the horse’s underbelly, threatening to get caught in the spurs. She slowed her horse, riding beside Emma. Her eyes flickered over her to her armor clad shoulders, long blonde hair spilling out from the black helmet on her head.

“Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

“Of course.” Emma cleared her throat, attempting to seem relaxed.

Regina just cocked an eyebrow, her eyes piercing. “You lie to your queen?”

“I have!” Emma whined, reaching up to remove her helmet, her cheeks burning and red. “I’m just-”

“Afraid of horses?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Oh really?” Regina patted Emma’s horse’s back, causing the horse to huff, it’s ears flicking back.

Emma tensed, her eyes wide and fearful before she noticed that the horse wasn’t going to start bolting. She took a deep breath, her eyes shut as her lips curled into a pout.

“I thought so.” Regina grinned, sitting up taller, a prideful gleam in her eyes. “The toughest soldier in my ranks is terrified of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of a horse.” Emma whispered, resigned but stubborn.

“Her name is Dulcinea.”

“What?” Emma blinked up at her, her eyes darting over Regina’s face. “What kind of name is that?”

“Honestly, don’t you read?” Regina shot her a sharp look. “It’s from a story Daddy used to read to me. A classic. High literature. Something you obviously couldn’t comprehend.”

“What’s your horse’s name then? Salty?”

“No.” Regina pursed her lips, her jaw clenching. “It’s Rocinante.”

Emma frowned, rolling her eyes. “Not what I would name them.”

Regina let out an amused chuckle, “I’m terrified to know what’s going on in your mind.”

Emma clicked her tongue, nudging Dulcinea forwards, her head held high. 

“Wait,” Regina laughed, looking at the pouting knight, “Enlighten me. What would you name the horses?”

“I’m not going to tell you, if you’re just going to laugh at me.”

Regina sighed, “Fine.”

Emma squinted as she traced the treetops, the sunlight glimmering through the rustle of the leaves. Without warning, Emma spurred her horse ahead, cutting Regina off, causing Rocinante to rear, lifting up and nearly knocking Regina on her back.

“Lady Swan!” She let out a frustrated scream, clinging onto her horse as he settled down. She let out a small growl, gathering her breath in short huffs as she glared at the woman in front of her. Emma was watching the trees, her hand flying to her side and unsheathing her sword, the polished blade catching the sunlight, nearly blinding the Queen. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Hush.”

“You did  _ not _ just shush me!”

Emma finally glanced at her, her brows were furrowed, her emerald eyes were piercing into Regina with such intensity, she almost drew back. Regina felt her lips curling upwards in a snarl, her hands flipping at the wrist, a fireball gathering in her palm. Emma looked down at the fire, a moment of hesitation crossing her eyes before she snapped back to fiery brown eyes, a halo of violet around the irises.

“Stay here.”

“You will not order me around, I am your Queen.”

Emma swung her sword, the blade coming down to bite on a nearby tree. The crunch of metal on bark echoed through the area, startling birds as they flapped and fluttered away, their protests rang through the air. Up ahead, a couple steps before them, a rope trap sprung up, catching leaves and a loose stick as it floats above their heads. Emma's eyes were still watching Regina, tracing her face and the small scar above her lip.

An arrow whizzed past their heads, burying itself in the bark of the trees behind them. In a blink, Emma was gone from her sight, dismounted and facing down three men. Their outfits were a dirty green, blending in with the forest, and their faces were muddied. In each of their hands were glistening swords. Emma swung at the man in the center, their blades clashing, the other two raised their swords. With a punch to the face by the hilt of the sword, Emma's teeth bit into the flesh, her lip slicing with a sting. She pushed him backwards and he landed on his back, his sword flying out of his hands. Spinning on her heel, she stabbed the man on the left, dropping him with a kick to the knee.

Emma dove to the left, just in time as a sword swung down beside her, slicing strands of her hair with its sharp edge. She turned, the two men standing side by side, a sickening gleam in their eyes. She tightened her grip on the hilt, her jaw clenched as she raised a hand and wiped away the blood from the corner of her mouth, smearing against the side of her face. One of them, the shorter one, raced at her, his sword held straight and focused, aimed at her, like a lance. She used her strength, hitting the side of his blade with hers with enough force to make him spin on his heel. With a solid thunk of the hilt of her sword to the back of his head, he collapsed where he stood.

Emma smirked as she stared at the last one standing. His lip was turned upwards in a scowl, his small beady eyes glaring deeply into Emma's. His shirt was cleaner than the other two, folds from where it was washed vigorously.

Another arrow flew towards Emma, and she dove to the right, missing it by a fraction. Emma stumbled on her knees, but when she looked up, the man was staring down at her. He kicked her chest, sending her flying on her back. She could feel her ribs snapping beneath her, taking away the air from her lungs in a gasp. He kicked the sword away, stomping down on her left arm, bone cracking under his foot. Emma flinched, her face contorting in pain but she clenched her jaw, her teeth straining against each other.

“Not so strong now are ye?” He used the hilt of his sword to bust Emma’s nose, causing her to cry out. He bent down, spitting in her face as he said, “You were a fool to think you can challenge us. Give it a rest girly. You’re just foolin yerself.”

“Why?” Emma spat, her hand reaching behind her as she felt the cold metal of her sword. She grabbed the hilt and pulled it out, smacking him square in the temple and he landed with a solid thud beside her. “I won.”

Emma groaned as she pulled herself up, her knees buckling under her weight and a stinging pain in her side with each shallow breath she sucked in. Her mouth had a dirty iron taste, hot liquid streaming down her nose. Her eyes were slightly wavering as she turned to the Queen on her horse. She had her head high, staring off into the distance. Emma was slightly aware of the fireball gone from her hand, and the crackling of fire faint in her ears through the pounding of her heart.

“Well?” Regina’s eyes were hard, her jaw set as she spared a glance at the blonde in front of her. “Are you quite finished yet?”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Emma winced as the maid held the wet rag to her nose, sending a shock of pain to her brain. She was sitting in a small cluttered kitchen, the whole castle seemed empty, save for the eccentric owner, and the small stuttering brunette of a maid.

“Sorry.” She whispered, placing the towel in Emma’s right hand. Emma reached up, bringing it underneath her nose. She took a sharp breath at the sting, her eyes watering against her will. The maid busied herself as she fluttered around making tea.

Emma pressed the rag against her mouth and nose, her breathing labored as she popped it back into position, her cries muffled but echoing through the small room. The young girl winced, turning to face her with a small pitiful smile. "So what happened?"

Emma shrugged, starting to shrug out of the heavy armor. "We got ambushed."

"Is. Is. How did. How many were there?"

"Three."

"Four." Regina entered the room, a scowl on her face as she took in the bloody bowl. Emma was down to a sleeveless gambeson, her left arm was curled around her stomach, red and swelling, her fingers had a hint of violet. Emma was clutching at her side, a sharp breath the only indication of pain as she looked up at the Queen. Her bottom half of the face was stained red from the blood, her bottom lip had a gaping cut and her nose was already violet and red from where it had been broken. Regina rolled her eyes, turning to look at the brunette watching her fearfully. "My dear, I think your master is calling you."

Emma didn't spare a glance as the girl raced out of the room, a brow raising as she watched Regina take a step forward. "Your majesty?"

"It seems that it was a mistake taking you on this trip alone."

"You didn't get hurt, I call this a success."

She scoffed, an irritated glare in her eyes, "I'd prefer it if my knights didn't waste time rolling in the dirt than fighting."

"Oh, that's not fair."

"Is that really what they taught you to do through the training? Are  _ all _ my knights as incompetent as you? Or are you just the singularity?"

"Forgive me if I didn't immediately get up after being shot with an arrow."

"No, I won't. You got hurt and it could've been avoided had you been half as good a fighter as I heard you were. It was a mistake bringing you on this journey alone."

Emma looked away, towards the herbs hanging over a stove as they dried. She clenched her jaw, blinking against her burning eyes. Regina blinked, scoffing as she took a step closer, she waved her wrist, a cup of dark violet almost red liquid appearing under Emma's nose on the table. Emma startled, her hand curving around the cup, before turning towards Regina in a silent question, but Regina had already walked away. Emma turned her attention back to the cup, sniffing it cautiously, her shoulders relaxing at the berry and vanilla scent wafting out of the liquid. She raised it to her lips, the porcelain smooth and cold on her skin as she took a big sip, almost choking as she gagged. The sweet smelling liquid covered her mouth with a rancid taste of molding cheese.

Once she forced herself to swallow, her pain eased, her bones snapping back in position with a gasp. Her hand tingled as blood finally reached her fingers, pins and needles starting to cover her nerves, making it numb to anything but that. Emma sniffed, her nose tingling as it settled back into position. She clenched her hand, pain still shooting through her veins, but it was less now, a low sharpness compared to the burning before. She was about to take another sip when Regina’s voice echoed through the halls into the kitchen.

“Lady Swan!”

Emma rolled her eyes, setting down the cup with a sigh.

  
  


The ride back was quiet, the birds weren’t singing, the sun was slowly starting its descent into the western sky, even the wind seemed to be holding its breath. The only sound was the gentle huffs of Rocinante and Dulcinea, their hooves clattering against the dirt. Regina was staring ahead, her frown deepening with every step towards the castle. She had her head held high, her back was stiff and straight, her hands were clinging onto the reins.

Emma puffed her cheeks, letting out the breath in a slow, noisy exhale. She set her jaw, her head tilting as she took in the tension of the Queen. “Didn’t get what you came for?”

Regina blinked, looking at Emma, her eyes flickering over her body before landing on her face. “What?”

“You seem upset. I’m just trying to figure out why.”

“Maybe I’m upset at your incompetence.”

Emma took her in, looking at her deeply before a smile burst on her lips, “That’s not it.”

“And how do you know it’s not?” Regina raised an eyebrow, a hint of an amused smirk lighting her face.

“If it was, you would’ve fireballed me into yesterday by now. Or ripped out my heart and crush it.”

“I still can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Is that a challenge, Lady Swan?”

“Just a fact.”

“Then tell me, what am I so upset about?”

“Don’t know. You obviously don’t want to talk about it. So, why don’t I try to distract you from it?”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s a tavern close by in a small village,” Emma gave her her charming half smile, a hint of a dimple on her left cheek. “I could use a drink. Maybe you could use one too.”

“Must I remind you that I am a Queen.  _ Your _ Queen. I don’t  _ do _ dirty taverns with,” Regina paused, her face scrunching as she tried to spit out the word, as if it was an unpleasant taste in her mouth, “Peasants.”

Emma let out a low chuckle, “I think you’ll find that us ‘peasants’ can be pretty entertaining sometimes.”

“I agree they can be entertaining,” Regina smirked, “When I’m terrifying them to the bone. However, other than that, they’re nothing more than drunk pigs.”

“Fine, stay bored.”

“What makes you think I’m bored, Lady Swan?”

Emma smirked, looking dead ahead. Her hand tightened on the reigns, her shoulders rolling back as she stood that much straighter in the saddle. Almost as if to punctuate the silence, Dulcinea snorted indigently.

“Fine.” Regina rolled her eyes, looking at the dark looming castle up ahead as a shadow crossed her eyes. She blinked, shaking out of it gently as she raised an eyebrow, turning to Emma with an annoyed huff. “I better be impressed with this little place, considering we’ll be taking time off of my schedule for it.”

“And I’m supposed to take you there now?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll have to ask me nicely.”

“Over your dead body.”

Emma let out a low chuckle, giving the Queen an infuriating smile. “If this is you asking nicely, I’d hate to see how you demand.”

Regina rolled her eyes, “I will not lower myself to your standards and beg like a common mongrel.”

“It’s not going to kill you to be nice. Besides, who am I going to tell? Who’s going to believe me if I tell them that I got the Queen to ask me to take her to a tavern?”

Regina shot her a glare, her lips curling into a snarl. "Or I could kill you and be done with you."

"You can. But who's going to protect you from those bandits?"

"Are you implying I can't defend myself?"

Emma smirked, "So, your Majesty, do you want to go to a tavern?"

Regina rolled her eyes, "I have to say, you've piqued my interest."

Emma gave her a goofy grin, hope shimmering in her eyes.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

"So, Lady Swan." Regina began, pulling the shawl she was draped in closer to her in a protective habit. She had to disguise herself, naturally, a Queen's presence in a common tavern wouldn't do for her reputation, so with a wave of her hand and a disgusted frown, her beautiful clothes turned into bright red tunic with a golden spiral trim, a long matching coat was pinned to her shoulder by a large decorative brooch. Her hair was swept aside flowing over her shoulder in elegant curls. There was something in the look that Emma gave her, a shadow of some kind of emotion she couldn't place, but she waved it off. "How were you able to see the trap coming?"

Emma shrugged slowly stripping down to her gambeson, her armor falling into pieces in her saddlebag. She shrugged on a bright white riding hood, letting her hair fall messily around her like a mane. Emma smiled against the burning gaze of the Queen, a fire burning in those chocolate eyes, although she wondered if it was just curiosity. “Would you believe it to be part of knight training?”

“No.”

“I learned it from my mom.”

“Your mother?”

Emma was silent, her muscles flexing as she tightened her grip on the reins. Regina was surprised, she knew Emma would’ve had a mother, but she never spoke of parents, of anything similar to that aspect. That small admission brought up more questions than answers, and from the tense grip of the straps, it was a subject Emma seemed to be uncomfortable talking about. In the distance, from the trees was emerging a small village centered by a well. There was a small bustling market, as people walked around. The sound of children’s laughter rang through the air, mingling with the chirps of birds and barks of dogs. It seemed calm, the populace living in relative comfort. There wasn’t any evidence of large military presence and it shows in the joy and eagerness of the adults waving at the blonde. Emma dismounted, a young boy with fiery red locks racing towards her arms.

“Emma!” She smiled, gathering him in a big hug, lifting him up to her hip. He showed her a small wooden puppet. “Look what I made!”

“That’s beautiful, kiddo. Where’s your papa?”

Emma set him down, watching him run back to the small woodshop, dust steadily billowing out of the door. Regina dismounted, holding tight onto the reins as she walked closer to her. She stood still, watching the villagers chatter quietly, occasionally giving her a wide smile or a wave before going back to their day. “Lady Swan?”

“Emma.” She corrected, giving her a sharp pleading look. “I’m just Emma here.”

Regina nodded, a brow raised as she took in the woman. “Where is here?”

Emma smiled as the elderly man walked out of the woodshop, being led by the boy. His eyes light up when he took in Emma and he walked closer, taking both of her hands in his.

“Emma! What brings you here so soon?”

“I was just in the area, figured I’d stop by, Marco.”

Marco let her hands slip, going to place a gentle hand on his son’s head. He turned to Regina, who tensed under his curious gaze.

“This is Regina,” Emma introduced, giving the Queen a soft smile, “Regina, this is Marco and his son Pinocchio.”

“How do you two know each other?”

Emma chuckled, smiling at him, “It’s a long story.”

Marco nodded, leading his boy away as Emma turned, taking Rocinante’s reins from Regina, leading them off the path towards a distant building, the windows shook in its foundations as faint music surrounded them. Regina figured that the music was one of the reasons why the tavern was so far from the actual square. It was up on a slight incline, hidden behind several trees. Emma tied the horses to a small stand in front of the tavern. Regina was looking around, her arms wrapping around her stomach defensively and a shadow of trepidation crossed her eyes and claimed her features in a frown.

“We can take out time going in.” Emma smiled up at her. Regina’s frown deepened, a challenge in her eyes.

“Are you implying I’m scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Because I’ll have you know, Lady Swan, I’m not afraid of anything.” Regina puffed out her chest, pulling her red coat closer to her, “Least of all a dirty tavern.”

Emma watched with an amused smile on her face as Regina strutted towards the door, flinching slightly as the music got louder when it was open. Emma shook her head softly, following after the stubborn Queen. The music was loud, not loud enough to lose hearing, but enough that it vibrated through the heart, making it seem as if it was beating with the tempo. Lutes, pan flutes, lyres, viols, even a small cheery drum were being played in an upbeat harmony. Towards the center, there were a few people dancing, already past their fill of mead. There were tables scattered towards the end, with a couple empty seats still left as barmaids wormed their way through the crowd to deliver plates of food and mugs. Lanterns and candles flickered in the breeze, the whole room was warm and happy.

Regina froze in her steps, taking it all in with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. She could feel the warmth bubbling in her stomach, the laughter ringing through the air, tickling her heart. A smile burst on her lips as the song changed tempo, the dancers easily changing to fit the faster pace as they jumped in a ring, couples pressed up against each other, spinning and spinning till Regina felt drunk just looking at them. She hadn’t noticed she moved closer until Emma caught the corner of her eye, talking with a leggy barmaid and getting two mugs from her tray. She frowned at her, trying to hide her joy at being in this place. “Is this what normal people call entertainment?”

“More or less.” Emma handed Regina a mug, taking a gulp. Regina glared down at the liquid with a disgusted frown, before taking a cautious sip. Emma grinned at her, nodding her head towards the center. “Do you want to dance?”

Regina almost choked on her drink, swallowing roughly as she gasped for a bit of breath. “What?”

“Do you want to dance?”

“I,” Regina blinked, her fingers wrapping tightly around the warm wooden mug. “Like them?”

“Who else is dancing?”

“I’m not sure if I could even call that insipid jumping ‘dancing’.”

Emma rolled her eyes, taking the mug from Regina’s hand and setting it down on a table beside hers. She turned towards the woman, giving her a dazzling grin, holding out her hand for Regina to take.

Regina hesitantly took Emma’s hand, to the younger woman’s surprise. “I’m not so sure about this, Emma.”

Emma pulled her close, her hand resting gently on the small of Regina’s back, her other hand was holding onto Regina’s. Regina’s eyes darted between emeralds. She could feel fear growing in the pit of her stomach, her throat starting to close and her mouth going dry. She carefully placed her free hand on Emma’s shoulder, her eyes snapping to her hand as she tightened her grip, the muscles hard and tense beneath her touch.

“Just relax, follow my lead.” The young knight breathed, showing the queen the four steps for the dance. Left, right, forward, back. Repeat.

Regina looked down at their feet, her brow creased as she tried to follow the steps. Left, check. Right, check. Forwards, nope. She stepped to far, her foot coming down to stomp on Emma’s. Regina grimaced with Emma’s sharp intake of breath, moving her foot quickly. She glanced up to her companion’s face, an apology about to roll off her tongue before Emma shook her head, giving her a small smile and going back to the next step. Backwards, check. Again. By the second time around, Regina was able to step easily, by the fourth, she looked up at Emma, a gentle look in her eyes.

Emma radiated joy and Regina felt a flutter start to dance in the pit of her stomach. She felt the steps slowly starting to quicken, to match the tempo of the music surrounding them. All at once she felt warm all over, spinning through the floor in Emma’s arms. Her skin burned beneath Emma’s touch, sending a wave of heat through her veins. She felt herself getting lost, getting drunk on Emma. Her emerald green eyes, her gentle voice, her crooked half smile, the strength of her toned arms, the heat and warmth radiating from her body, her soft scent of lilacs, musk, and iron. Strong and soft at the same time. Regina found it hard to swallow, the taste of the mead lost on her tongue and she found she wanted more.

Emma couldn’t hear the music past the rapid heartbeat in her ears. She was extremely aware of the hand burning her shoulder, the closeness made her stomach flip and her mouth went dry. The scent of roses and apple and spice Emma couldn’t name was surrounding her, and in that moment, Emma wanted to drown in it. It was at that precise moment, when the song shifted to a slower one, when Emma and Regina somehow found themselves inching closer, their eyes darting to lips that seemed to call out to them that a shadow darkened in Regina’s eyes and pulled away as if Emma had burned her, shattering their spell.

“Are you okay?” Emma stepped forward and Regina stepped back. Emma froze in her spot, giving her a curious look.

“I’m fine.” Regina gasped, her throat burned and her mouth was dry. Everything was spinning, the ground, the music, the people around her. It was too much, it was all too much. It was as if she was caught in a roaring current, everything around her was so cold and unfeeling, and she was burning. She shut her eyes to try to push the claustrophobic feelings threatening to strangle her. “It’s time to go back.”

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

The ride back to the castle was silent. The air suffocatingly sober, the path was starting to darken, the sun on its last lengths. There was enough sunlight left for the last trip to the castle, the dark shadow in the distance. Regina was at the front, leading the way home. Emma was riding a full carriage away, her armor was back on, making her a dark shadow on Dulcinea’s white back. The distance sat on Regina in a way she didn’t quite let herself understand. It stung her in a way, she found herself missing the easy way they talked, the fact that Emma didn’t seem to back down, didn’t fear her the way others did. Regina felt her heart sinking deeper as the castle came closer, a dark nasty feeling twisting in her gut, trying to crawl its way up her throat.

Blinking, she looks back at Emma, through the surrounding darkness, she could see the knight’s features clearly. She was looking straight at her, her eyes sharp and emotionless, her lips pulled into a straight line, and her posture was stiff and cold. Regina shivered at the blank expression and Emma blinked, turning her attention to scan the forest, her head moving from side to side, her eyes refusing to land back on the Queen.

Regina swallowed thickly, the walls of the palace borders coming up. She straightened up, her eyes shut as she tried to keep her emotions in check. Behind her, she can hear the quick crunching steps of Dulcinea coming closer, crossing the distance. Emma unsheathed her sword at her hip, waving it to the guards at the top of the walls, the doors leading into the palace opening for them.

“Emma.” Regina whispered, her voice soft, her eyes flickering between emerald green, focusing on the swirls of yellow swimming in them, like rays shooting out of her pupils, reaching out. Emma frowned at her, her brows furrowing as her eyes flickered over Regina’s face.

"Your majesty?"

"I-" Regina swallowed thickly, her eyes flickering over Emma's face. Her heart was frozen in her chest, she couldn't find the strength to take in a breath. "Nothing."

* * *

  
  


3 weeks have passed from the day she accompanied Regina and she hadn’t seen the Queen since. She was almost thankful for that, she hated being stuck in awkward situations, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to see her. She couldn’t get her out of her mind, her dreams going to vivid images, each darker and stronger than the last, dreams that woke her with a gasp, her breath hitching and an uncomfortable ache through her body. She blinked to keep those thoughts in the back of her mind, her fingers working quickly as she wrapped her arms, legs, and chest in the bindings, the sounds of swords crashing against each other loud and resolute, before she slipped into her polished armor, the metal glittering in the low light of the shelters.

Outside, in the large square sandpit were dozens of knights, fighting and clashing and pushing with all of their might. They coiled and turned, their swords and armor clanking and echoing against the roar of the crowd gathered around them. The dark colors of the black knights for Queen Regina’s kingdom were in sharp contrast to the dwindling gold plated armor of the knights from King Midas’ kingdom. Eventually the remaining soldiers of the King’s kingdoms fell, the remaining black knights roared in their success before kneeling down before the Queen, who was sitting up in the stands, her face was emotionless, but there was a sparkle in her eye and a pride in the slightest way she tilted her head up in acknowledgement. To her right, a seat apart was King Midas, a man already starting on his elderly decent, his wild blonde almost white curls blending into his golden clothes, His crown sait proudly on his head as he looked despondently at his soldiers thrown around the sand, struggling to stand.

“Your soldiers are highly trained, I see.” He commented, a small clank coming from his hands rubbing against the other, the heavy iron gauntlets glimmering in the high sun.

“Are they?” Regina sighed, her eyes tracing the figures as they cleared out from the pit, getting ready for the jousting tournament.

“Yes. I hear you have a new recruit amongst them.”

“I have many new recruits.” She frowned, her mood starting to sour. “Which one are you referring to?”

“A woman. A female knight amongst your ranks.”

“A female knight?” Princess Abigail spoke up from her father’s side, her long blonde hair was tied up and pinned to an elegant blue hat, to match her low cut blue dress. Long dangling earrings caressing her shoulders as she moved forwards to look at the Queen, her blue eyes shimmering with interest. “Surely that isn’t so.”

“Oh.” Regina rolled her eyes,  _ of course _ . Why wouldn’t they be talking about Lady Swan? “Yes, she’s one of the more competent soldiers in my ranks. She’ll be fighting against your Sir Frederick in the singular sword fight after the jousting challenge.”

“Is she really that good?” There was something in the challenging way he looked Regina up and down, in the slight predatory sneer as he looked down at the field, trying to spot a glimpse of the mysterious knight, that sent goosebumps down Regina’s spine. She raised her head, her body tensing in her seat and a frown starting to develop in her face. Her brows furrowed and her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the field and soldiers on horseback. She wasn’t especially fond of the blonde, she found her quite irksome and difficult, but she wasn’t about to let King Midas try to steal her soldiers away. Her hands tensed on the throne, her fingers tightening against the blood red elbow length gloves she had on. She found herself absentmindedly brushing at her velvet red and gold dress, Her black hair falling down like a shroud, curling around her cheeks from the heat and sweat of the sun, the crown on her head starting to feel heavier and heavier and she almost wanted to scream, to run out and leave, but she couldn’t, not without directly insulting King Midas, and despite her soldiers having more aptitude against his, she preferred to keep that treaty with the Midas kingdom intact.

She blinked, the trumpets blaring obnoxiously and she almost threw a fireball at their heads to get them to shut up before she realized what they were announcing. Lady Swan emerged from the barracks, swaggering to the pit, her glimmering armor was darker, a black cape with the Queen’s colors was pinned to her shoulders. Her face and hair was hidden beneath the solid helmet, but Regina could tell it was her. She met Frederick in the center, his light metal armor contrasted with his yellow and red cape. He seemed confident, as if he knew he was fighting against a woman and figured it would be a short match. His back was straight, his chest puffed up in pride, already celebrating a victory he was sure was his. They bowed to their reigning monarchs, before turning to each other, unsheathing their swords.

Fredrick swung first, his arch was wide as he brought down his sword towards Emma’s shoulder. She blocked with the side of her blade, pushing against his. It was a testing move, easy to block, a way to check for any openings or weaknesses in the stance. Emma rolled her eyes, as he swung again and again, aiming for her shoulder, her chest, her legs. She blocked them easily, a small satisfied smirk as she aimed and smacked the side of her sword against his helmet before he could block. The clang echoing inside his helmet and he took an unsteady step back, his ears ringing.  _ Idiot. _

Once the noise lessened, he blinked at Emma who was waiting expectedly for him. Her shoulders were shaking softly as she laughed silently. He narrowed his eyes and huffed out an annoyed breath. No woman makes a fool out of him in swordfighting. He locked his shoulders and started to attack with more precision, more anger, and Emma was thrown at the intensity from her opponent. He struck her chest, ripped the cape on her side as he struck her arm, and struck her leg, throwing her backwards into the sand. He swung his sword down, aiming for her head to finish her off but she blocked it with her sword. He had her pinned down against the sand, his sword pressed up against hers as she tried to block his. He was pushing his sword coming closer and closer to her neck and he was able to see the slight tremble of Emma’s head as she shook no.

_ No. _ Regina had to bite her tongue to keep herself from calling out. She glared out into the field and felt her magic burning beneath her skin, roaring through her veins, trying to force itself out. King Midas let out a sharp laugh, relaxing back into his seat, his daughter was playing with a handkerchief, her hands twisting and tightening and turning the cloth until there were deep creases in the white fabric. She let out a shuddering breath, her irises starting to tinge into a deep violet, her jaw clenching and her teeth vibrating from the pressure.

With a surge of strength, Emma pushed him back and he went flying a few feet away. She leapt to her feet, walking over to the man who was scrambling for his sword. He stood on his feet fast enough to block Emma’s strike, she swung again, hitting the side of his armor, cracking the metal with a crunch before she swung again meeting his sword over his head. She pulled back, watching him stagger forwards against the sudden release of pressure before he stabilized himself.

“So, you’re the famous Emma Swan?” He spat, ripping his helmet from his head, his yellow scarf dark with sweat. Brown hair flopped around, sticking up and around his piercing brown eyes. He tossed his helmet to the side, tilting his head as he took a stance, his eyebrows raised in challenge. Emma looked at the discarded helmet and sighed, removing hers in turn. Her blonde hair cascaded down in wild rebellious curls, glinting like gold in the sun. Strands of her hair was braided back from her face, her green eyes glittered as she smirked at the soldier in front of her.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“My name is Sir Frederick. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Can’t really say the same.”

He let out a huff, his demeanor gloating and he puffed out his chest. They were walking in circles, waiting for a break in their defensive stands, for a small momentary lapse, a weakness, to attack. “I am the champion for King Midas. I am engaged to the Princess.”

“Remind me again.” Emma nodded softly, her sword twirling in her hand. “When did I ask? Did I make it seem like I cared?”

“Not only are you fighting with the men, but you lack the decency and respect that a woman should hold to.”

Emma laughed, her voice echoing out into the crowd, drifting up to the Royals watching. Frederick took the opportunity to dive, aiming for her arm. She quickly sidestepped, her sword crashing against his in an angle that caused him to spin on his heels and nearly lose his balance. He growled in annoyance, swinging again and catching her sword, pushing her back. She stepped closer, her face inches from his, the swords crossed against their chests and she smirked.

“I might be a woman, but you fight like a child.” She pushed, her feet digging into the sand, using her whole body weight against him. He took two steps back, almost stumbling, trying to push back, the quiver of his arms showing the effort he was giving, but it wasn’t enough. He spat, white spittle landing on Emma’s cheek and her eyes narrowed, cold anger in her piercing green eyes. Her foot came down on his knees, the loud clang of her metal boot against his armor rang out, along with the telltale sign of the snap of bones beneath her heel as his knees bent backwards, sending him flying back on his back, his sword soaring through the air. There was a hush throughout the crowd, they held their breath as Emma stalked over. She wiped her face clean, shaking the spit off of her fingers into his face before burying her sword by his head, finishing the duel.

She pulled her sword back, sheathing it on her hip and took a step away, looking up to the royals. King Midas was staring daggers at her, a snarl on his face, his eyes narrowed and his grip on his chair was tight and violent. The princess by his side had a small smile, but she was looking at the man underneath Emma with her brow furrowed. The Queen was watching Emma with a giant grin, her shoulders relaxed, her chin raised high. Her eyes were tracking the knights form and Emma felt her face start to heat at the hungry look in the Queen’s gaze. Emma stepped back, looking down at Frederick, offering her hand to help him up, a show of good sportsmanship. He looked at her hand in disgust, brushing it off as he tried and failed to get up, pain shooting through his body from his knees. Emma stepped back as more knights came to Frederick’s aide, and she just shrugged it off, took a small bow for the Queen and walked back to her shelter.

“She’s a barbarian.” Sneered King Midas, scoffing as he grabbed a mug of mead and took a sloppy gulp from it, the honey liquid sloshing over his robes and onto his lap. “I can’t believe you brought someone like  _ that _ into your ranks.”

“Someone like what?” Regina snapped, her head starting to pound irritably every time he opened his mouth and  _ graced _ them with words.

“Like  ** _her_ ** .” He motioned with a wave of his hand to the now empty ring, the other players starting to set up for a round of hunting the piglet, “Brash, and violent, and wrong.”

“Is this you insulting her nature because she’s not in a home as a mother and wife, or is this you insulting her because she won against your Frederick?”

“You can’t say that  _ that _ charade of a fight was  _ anything _ more than just a mockery of the form.”

“I think she won fairly, father.” Princess Abigail spoke up, her eyes were trained to the field, but she seemed as if she was waiting to get off of her chair and leave. Regina raised a brow, turning to look at the Princess. She had to admit, she preferred the company of the blonde to her father.

“Quiet, Abigail.” The King snapped, slamming his fist on his chair, “Must I remind you that she crippled your Frederick? He’ll be lucky to walk again.”

At that, Abigail stood, turning to glare at her father. Her eyes were narrowed, the piercing blue was harsh and cold, a splash of freezing water. He didn’t blink, his calculating stare was sharp and reprimanding. She rolled her eyes with a huff, turning on her heels and storming off, a fury of insults muttered under her breath, like a prayer or a hex, both and nothing at all. King Midas let out a frustrated huff, shaking his hands as if getting rid of dirt, the kind that sticks to your fingers, to the sweat of your hands, the grains scratchy and annoying. “Children.”

* * *

  
  


Emma was sitting on a small bench inside the shelter, her head in her hands as she tried to relax her shaking hands from the residual adrenaline. She took a deep and calming breath, easier to do now that the heavy armor was off and she assessed her injuries. She had a couple bruises, but nothing too bad. The door to the barracks opened with a slam and she whipped her head up, thankful she was just in her chains and gambeson, as knight after knight entered the barracks, flying King Midas’ colors. She stood, her hands immediately splayed and defensive, as she counted 7 men before they closed and barricaded the doors. Their numbers were large in the small space. They stood tall, each one was at least a head taller than her and with their heavy armor, their shoulders were broader, their arms thicker than her entire head. Her heart started to thunder in her chest, a black slime fluttering in her stomach and curling around, twisting and turning and tightening crawling up to wrap around her lungs and heart. Goosebumps prickled on her skin and she flinched, ice cold water racing through her veins with the click of the lock behind them.

“Boys, I think you might have the wrong barracks.” She gave them her most charming smile, her body tense and her eyes tracking, trying to memorize positions and weaknesses. There were too many. She wanted to scream, to alert her team that she was in danger, but with the crash of armor echoing in from the outside, she knew she was alone. Her smile was dazzling, hoping she could charm her way out of a situation, but her ears were roaring with each heartbeat. “Yours is on the other side of the field.”

“Oh, we know, sister.” One of them sneered, she couldn't figure out just where it came from, who was speaking to her, but it sent another wave of ice through her system. The voice seemed to echo through the shack, as if it was coming from all of them and none of them at the same time. She gulped, swallowing down the vile bringing a bitter taste on her tongue, a shudder washing through her.

She tilted her head, her eyes landing on the one closest to her and she pounced, pushing with the side of her arm against his chest as hard as she could. All the movements of a crowded animal, lashing out at the nearest predator. She knew it was over before it even started, but she was going to go down swinging. Bone hit metal with a snap and she winced, but it worked. He stumbled back and took down two more in the process. She reached for her weapon but they were faster, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her back, her fingers merely grazing the blade of her weapon.

Her back hit the wooden floorboards with a thud, the wind rushing from her lungs and she struggled to gulp in air. Her hands instinctively curled around her hair, her elbows just barely covering her face and head as feet and fists landed all over her. Her body was burning as bones shattered, her legs, her knees, her ribs, her face. Nothing was safe and she cried out in pain, her shouts strangled and muffled by the blows. She could feel the blood rushing down, pooling beneath her, staining her clothes and blonde hair. She didn’t know how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity.

Eventually, when they tired, panting and spitting on her in disgust, they started to file out, one by one, until the last one, the one holding her by her hair finally let go with a sigh. She let out a strangled gasp and he kicked at her head.

“King Midas sends his regards, you cheating whore.” It was spat out, cold anger in his tone as he glared down at her. He turned on his heels, strolling out of the barracks with a cocky swagger.

Emma was trembling, the wood was harsh, her throat was dry and rough and she felt weak and cold, her eyelids getting heavier by the minute. She knew she should keep awake, to try to force herself up and out, but it hurt to move, to let go, to even breathe. Each second was agony, bones splintered everywhere, digging into her flesh and her organs, her lungs, and she felt a thready liquid sloshing sluggishly through her veins, the warmth of the blood pooling beneath her was comforting, a cold breeze getting colder as her skin started to turn to ice and her vision started to fog. The last thing she saw was a dark shadow approaching her, a muffled voice, too distant for her to hear, before darkness took her sight and her body fell limp.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Emma was warm. She was wrapped in a bundle of blankets, the mattress and the fabrics softer than anything she’s ever felt in her life. She felt warmth radiating from her chest, her body was numb. Her arms and legs felt as if they were needles stabbing into her skin, her nerve endings on fire and popping with each breath. Her eyes tightened, a cold shudder as the fast and sudden instinct to fight washed over her. She moved to fist her hands and she groaned against the pain of the needles, a harsh confusion as she found she couldn't even get her fingers to move. Her head shakes from side to side, her eyes fluttering until they opened and she panted. Colors danced, her vision was blurry and the more she tried to focus, the more the world blurred into shapes and bright white light.

“You idiot.” The voice was low, a hum within the silence of the room. Emma knew exactly who it was, and blinked rapidly, the world slowly starting to come into focus in the form of Regina, standing over her bedside. Her head was held high, a simple yet elegant black dress with red trimmings and embroidered decorative roses. If it hadn’t been for the corset with the plunging neckline, Emma figured it was a nightdress. One worn just for the bedchambers, a private affair. “You almost died because of your foolishness.”

“I,” Emma rasped, her throat scratchy and her voice raw from not being used for a long period of time. For the first time, she wondered just how long she had been out, her mind searching her memories, her brow furrowing and her eyes darting back and forth over Regina’s face, as if the answer was in her eyes. “How is this  _ my _ fault exactly?”

“If you hadn’t won, they wouldn’t have attacked you.”

“So you wanted me to lose?”

“No.”

“If you didn’t want me to win and didn’t want me to lose, what should I have done?”

“Nothing. You should’ve stayed in the pit fighting ring, left the sword fighting to Graham.”

“What?!” Emma struggled to control her voice, her head flying up from the pillow, her arms moving forcefully to lift her torso from the bed. “I won the right to the sword fighting months ago! Graham wasn’t going to stand a chance!”

“You will control your outbursts in my presence Lady Swan or so help me.”

“What? You’ll punish me?”

Regina raised an eyebrow at that, her lips pursing as her eyes flickered over Emma’s face. It only took Emma a couple of moments to falter, resting back on the bed. She was glad that slowly, feeling started to come back to her arms and legs, the needles fading away to a dull sensation. 

“You’re lucky I found you when I did.” The Queen continued, turning to walk down the bed towards the dresser which held various potion bottles of different shapes, sizes, and colors. They were wide and thin and tall and short, each and every vial was elegant and decorative, in reds, blues, golds, blacks, all the colors of the rainbow, and even some colors that Emma has never seen before. “That’s twice I’ve saved your life now. And here I thought you were the knight, the saviour, in this situation.”

“What do you mean twice? If anything, we’re even.”

“Don’t tell me you believe that archer in the forest stopped shooting because he simply ran out of arrows.”

“I took down three to your one.”

“And how many did you take down in the barracks?” Regina turned, vial in hand, a faint red glow coming from the short and stout glass. Her eyes flashed violet, a caged animal about to attack. Emma, however, had since then turned away, pulling herself up to lean against the headboard. Her eyes focused on the walls, the curtains at the windows, everything other than the Queen. With an exasperated sigh, Regina walked back to Emma’s side, placing the vial roughly in her hands. “That’s what I thought.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Emma had to get out of the castle for a couple of hours. It was bad enough that she had been attacked at the barracks and she can’t bring herself to return without worrying that it might happen again. It was bad enough that everyone was treating her like she was an animal that might lash out against the team for being beaten for once. It was worse that she had been criticized by the Queen, and she had to stay in that room until she got her strength back,  _ like an invalid. _ She rolled her eyes and huffed out, annoyed. She was the strongest soldier in the ranks, she was dangerous, and good at it. She was about to go insane if she stayed in that room for any longer. It was big, too big, and it made her feel small. Everything was fancy and cotton and expensive and so very very wrong.

So here she was, riding her horse down the road, where lily of the valley and honeysuckle peppered the forest beside the trail, scattering the dark greens and browns in white and violet. Sunlight checkered through the leaves of the trees, orange and red and yellow, the beginnings of Autumn starting to expand and grow in a slow and lazy breath. Emma knew she was supposed to feel relaxed and happy but there was something nagging her, some sort of dark shadow, a hidden voice, telling her to run. She shook it off, sparing a glance over her shoulder, her eyes tracking the trees and the trail behind her. It was quiet and empty, nothing and no one, but still she moved, walking quicker till the town peeked from the trees and she slowly started to hear the bustle of the square.

Music greeted her, the streets were decorated with long brightly colored ribbons tied from sign to sign, creating a sort of canopy over the crowd. Out in the center were the instruments, lutes, lyres, winds, and the drums dancing to their own beat, surrounded by the couples and teenagers, dancing without a care in the world. Children raced, weaving through the adults, holding wooden swords and straw dolls. Everyone was covered in color, faces red and blue and green, handprints of bright orange and yellows and violet on white shirts. Each and everyone was painted, trailing colored dust as they moved, their sweat darkening and sticking the colors to their skin. There was a cloud surrounding the crowd, the sunlight catching in the dust, sparkling in a scattered rainbow of light. Towards the left were giant bins still half filled with colored powder, a couple of children sticking their hands and fists in them, throwing dust at each other in a game where only they know the rules. Laughter and pleasant chatter mingled over the music, a warmth spreading over Emma, and her shoulders sagged.

Emma took a couple steps into the courtyard, and immediately shut her eyes as a blast of violet dust hit her face, coating her hair and sticking to the sweat. She blinked, blowing a raspberry to get a couple of clumps of dust from her tongue, it’s chalky taste making her grimace. Her eyes traced over the crowd, looking for the culprit, when her bright green eyes landed on a group of kids, getting ready with handfuls of multicolored dust, a mischievous glint in their eyes. 

She dived towards the baskets, but it was too late, dozens of multicolored balls of dust splattered all over her, painting her in reds, yellows, greens, blues, turning her into a fish that couldn’t figure out what color to pick for their scales and picked all of them. She was covered from each strand of her hair to the very ends of her boots, and it would take a good week to get all of the dust completely off of her skin. She dug her hands into the dust, painting her palms and up to her elbows in yellow, turning to the kids. Within seconds, Emma was chasing the group through the crowd, picking up a couple and tagging them with yellow handprints as she tickled and carried them like luggage. Their squeals and laughter mingled with the music, and Emma could feel the weight of the past months dissipating from her shoulders.

* * *

  
  


Marco found Emma in her old bedroom on the second floor of the workshop, hours after the sun had set and the ale and crates of wine were rolled out. She was resting against the white sheets of the single cot, the sheets covered with a fine layer of dust from being unused and the colors covering Emma’s clothes, a simple candle set on the windowsill, sending the whole room in a flickering orange glow. In her hands, was a worn bow, the wood was sun bleached, the line was flack and on the arch was simple notches scratched onto it, two sets of initials carved, SW and ES. ES was smaller, sloppier, and lighter, the edges were starting to darken, to match those of the other initials, and Emma was softly running her thumb over the carvings.

“Isn’t it the anniversary in a couple of days?” He spoke softly, startling Emma from her position on the bed. She looked up at him with tearful wide eyes, a lost depth in them. In that moment she wasn’t the 29 year old woman anymore, she was the lost little orphan he picked up off the forest floor years ago. Hungry and scared and stubborn, ranting about treason, revenge, refusing to back down, causing fights and running away because she was hurting so much. 

“It’s tomorrow.” She murmured, of course he knew, she didn’t want to see the pain in his eyes, not now, so she turned her attention back to the bow, her only connection to the only family she has. The town had taken her in, helped raise her, an orphan just looking for a home, and the town will always have a place in her heart, but was she a bad person for missing her mother? “17 years to the day.”

“That’s not the date one  _ usually _ celebrates.” He spoke, settling to sit down beside her, letting out a soft groan as his bones creaked, time wearing him down.

“Who said anything about celebrating?”

“Not a happy celebration, no, but remembering her instead.”

“What about it?”

“I know what you’re thinking Emma. It’s why you signed up to be a knight, to go on that ridiculous journey.”

“Don’t start.”

“I will start, and I will finish it. You’re keeping the memory of your mother’s death, not to keep her spirit alive, but to seek your revenge against her killer.”

“You know  _ nothing _ about me.”

“I know everything, Emma. You forget, I was like you. Young and naive. Scared. An orphan too. My parents were taken from me when I was younger than you were, I was sent out on the streets with no place to go when I couldn’t pay the rent anymore. And then I found this place, this haven for orphans and lost souls, the town helps Emma. I’m so sorry we couldn’t help you. But revenge is never the answer.”

“Says the man who lost his parents to a cricket. No, what was it again? A man who turned into a cricket for taking your parents away? And then you kept him as a friend because you couldn’t get revenge?” Emma scoffed, glaring at him, her eyes glittering in the candlelight, her voice starting to crackle as she pushed through a lump in her throat. “Just because you were too scared to avenge your parents doesn’t mean everyone else has to follow your pacifist vow. I never knew my father. She was all I had, and she was taken from me. She wasn’t perfect but she was all I had.”

“I get it, child-”

“Don’t. Pinocchio is your child. You gave me a place to stay when I had nothing, you fed me and clothed me and for that I will forever be grateful, but I am not your child.”

“It will come down the line, where you have to make a choice. I beg the blue star each night that you’ll end up making the right choice.”

“I know the right choice, Marco.” She stood, placing the bow tenderly back on the dresser, running a shaking hand through her hair. “I won’t hesitate in stabbing her through her heart.”

* * *

Emma was angry, stalking through the crowds at the festival. Everyone was holding candles, lightning bugs floating peacefully through the stands and flowers, the stars twinkled against the dark sky, a full moon illuminating and giving off a gentle glow, the performers were playing soft slow music and people were dancing and mingling, there was a gentle peacefulness to the night, but Emma was angry. She was more than angry, she was furious. Her blood was boiling within her skin and her hands were shaking as she tried to avoid being seen by someone or punching someone in her desperation. 17 years. 17 years of carrying the weight of that day on her back. 17 years of carrying the cross to bear and she still had nothing to show for it. She knew who killed her mother, but she was closer to finding an abandoned shoe than finding her. She couldn’t explain it, it was as if she had completely disappeared off the face of the Earth, and she had no clue as to where she could  _ find _ her, let alone what she would be able to do. Sure she was older and stronger than she was last time, but it didn’t change the fact that Cora had magic. Had destroyed thousands of civilians with just a wave of her hand.

Emma rolled her eyes, keeping her head down, and she ran a hand through her messy hair, the curls sticking out, each and every way, her hands were curled into fists and she could feel her nails digging into her scalp. With her head down, Emma couldn’t see the shadow of a woman in her way, standing as she looked out over the crowd. They crashed, collapsing to the ground in the dust, Emma landing directly over the woman, pinning her down to the dirt.

“Shit!” She cursed, starting to get up when her eyes locked with Regina, directly beneath her. The Queen was here, her face was dusted with yellow, no doubt hit by the children that were targeting anyone clean. Her chocolate eyes were wide as she fluttered her gaze over Emma’s face. “Wait, your hi-”

“Shhhhh!” Regina shushed, her hands flying to cover Emma’s mouth, a muffled mmmmpf the only protest heard, but she didn’t fight it. “I’m Regina here. Wasn’t that what you said?”

“Mmma muf maaf mms m mmmam mfmf.”

Regina rolled her eyes, removing her hand from Emma’s mouth, wiping the wetness on her palm on Emma’s shirt with a disgusted groan. “What?”

“Yeah, but that was a while ago.”

“So?”

Emma furrowed her brow, pulling back a bit to take in Regina’s wardrobe, it was mostly peasant’s clothing, nothing that the established Queen would ever wear, not in public at least. “What are you doing here?” She asked tentatively, a curious glimmer in her eyes.

“You left without a note, your horse was gone, and none of the other knights knew where you had run off to. I figured this was where you ran to, and I didn’t want to scare the peasants by sending the whole armada, but I had to make sure.”

“You were worried about me?”

Regina scoffed, a harshness in her eyes as she looked disdainfully at Emma. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“No, you were worried about me.”

“Will you get off of me?!” She spoke louder than she meant to, and attracted the attention of a couple of people walking by but it got the job done. Emma ducked her head, immediately jumping to her feet, offering her hand to Regina to help her stand back up. Regina reluctantly took it, letting her pull her to her feet and she started to dust her outfit from dirt, creating a small cloud of dust and color.

“Well, you found me here. Now what?”

“I’m not sure.” It came out soft and Regina looked back to the crowd, the music and the dancing, a welcome distraction. It was completely different than anything she’d ever seen, ever experienced. It was new and strange and curious and she couldn’t decide if she liked it because it was different or if it was truly entertaining. Maybe both. Was both a bad thing?

Emma rolled her eyes, looping her arm with Regina’s and leading her forwards, towards the stalls filled with freshly picked fruits and vegetables. Regina protested, her head snapping to glare at Emma, but she didn’t pull away from her. “For as long as I’ve been in this town,” She started, murmuring softly, “They had this Harvest Festival to celebrate the end of… Well, the Harvest.”

“What’s with the colors?”

“They’re the emotions we kept inside during the year, the ones we refused to show, the ones that we let rule our days, the ones we felt when we didn’t notice we were feeling. Yellow is joy, happiness, creativity, warmth, light. Orange is love, strength, stability, peace. It represents the work we did in the fields for the crops, for our community, for ourselves. Red is anger, hatred, but also pain, grief, fire burning. Green is jealousy, sickness, but growth as well. Violet is calmness, gentleness, tenderness, it’s the softness one shows with a child, the patience to care. Blue is, as expected, sadness, depression, the tears and sweat we’ve shed, but also the coolness of the waters, the thirst for knowledge and the flow of the mind and heart.”

“But it’s all mixed, people throw the dust at each other, it gets scattered and rubbed off on others and on things.”

“Exactly.”

“So what’s the point if you can’t decide for yourself what color you want to be painted?”

“Can you decide to fall in love? To be happy? To get sick on the snap of a finger?”

“Yes.”

Emma rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, “It’s fun. Can you accept the simple fact that it’s fun?”

“Are you insinuating that I am not capable of having fun, Lady Swan?”

“Who? Me?”

“I’m not the one reading into colored dust.”

“I’m not reading into dust! I’m telling you what it means.”

“Well, it’s ridiculous.” Regina’s back straightened, her chin sticking out and a defiant glimmer shone in her eyes. Petulance, like a child refusing to back down from reasoning.

“It’s symbolic.”

“What else is there to do here, other than being covered with  _ special _ dust?”

“Most people just celebrate that they don’t have to work for the next 4 months by getting black out drunk for two of them.”

Regina pulled a face, her brow furrowed and her nose scrunched up as if she just tasted a lemon. “How barbaric. And here I thought this town was more than just peasants and drunks.”

“You know, there’s such a thing called being a killjoy.”

“And there’s such a thing as more civilized entertainment.”

“Like what? Grab big stick and hit people with till winner is person who hit more people than got hit?”

“How dare you.”

“Face it,  _ Regina _ , whether you’re in high society or in the poorest town you can think of, there’s no such thing as civilized entertainment.”

They passed a booth with dozens of flower crowns scattered around, it was filled with different combinations of colors and shapes, making each and every crown uniquely different from the other. Emma picked up a mix of hydrangeas, orchids, and daisies, plopping it on Regina’s head, much to her displeasure. She was a Queen, the only crown she wore was made of pure gold. She had to admit, she loved Orchids, but she wasn’t going to give Emma the satisfaction of knowing that. Emma had her own crown of roses, lilies, and forget-me-nots, and she grinned like a child as they moved on, towards the center of the courtyard. The music was louder here, drowning out the noise of other conversations and surrounding them both in the gentle melodies. It was soft and sweet, and in that moment, in that center, it was just Emma and Regina.

“I can see why you left the castle.” Regina started, they had stopped walking, and she let her eyes trail slowly over everything, taking it all in as leisurely as she could. There was no rush to act, nothing to command, no pretenses to hold up, just the ability to enjoy being here, surrounded by people enjoying themselves, relaxing. It was strange not to see the fear in their eyes when they looked at her, being avoided like the plague or a wild animal waiting to attack. It was different to let herself relax, and her shoulders drooped, releasing all the tension she held and it was like a weight had been lifted from her lungs. The air was crisper, sweeter, sharper, the cold of the night air was matched by the warmth of the blonde at her side and she felt completely at ease for the first time in a very long time. “It’s… nice.”

“You’re welcome here anytime you’d like, you know.”

Regina turned fully towards Emma, and Emma reflexively curled her arm around Regina’s waist. She was close before, but when Regina moved, they were pressed against each other, and Emma could feel Regina’s hot breath hitting against her lips. A cold shudder rushed through her spine and her arm tightened, holding the Queen securely against herself. There was some sort of emotion swimming in Regina’s eyes, a gentleness there that Emma couldn’t place. Her eyes were warm, wide and almost hopeful, and she something fluttered within her heart, and heat spread on her chest and down to the pit of her stomach.

Regina’s hand had landed on Emma’s shoulder, and she was again reminded of the strength hidden underneath. She could feel Emma flushed against her, and couldn’t bring herself to pull away. There was something within those emerald eyes that called to her, a sort of mystery and warmth. A tenderness she couldn’t place. All too soon they were moving, but not moving at the same time, time seemed to freeze around them as their lips inched closer together. It was soft, softer than Regina had expected and warm. It was sweet, lips brushed and pressed against each other, and when it was deepened, they weren’t sure just who deepened the kiss, it was fire and electricity sizzling and fighting with each other, two hot and powerful forces merging and morphing and combining into something uniquely them. Regina felt a jolt, her magic awakening and sparking, her hands wrapping around Emma’s neck, pulling her closer. Emma’s head spun, drunk and dizzy and refusing to back down, to stop. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, she could feel something within her snap, something warm under her skin and in that moment, everything seemed to make sense.

That was, until they broke apart, gasping for air and their eyes focused on each other’s. Regina’s brain caught up, and the reality of what happened seemed to settle within them, within her, and she pulled away as if Emma’s touch burned her skin. Ice cold water splashed over her, a chill running down her spine, skin prickling into goosebumps and she couldn’t look away from Emma’s emerald eyes scrunched in confusion. Her magic coiled, awaked and twisting in her veins, burning against her skin, almost calling out to her and she flicked her wrist, violet smoke engulfing her, Emma’s face fading away into nothing and she poofed away.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

Two months had passed since the Harvest Festival took place. Emma was finally brushing the last bits of violet out of her blonde hair as she sat in front of the large ornate solid gold vanity. It felt wrong, sitting here, the corset and dress she was supposed to be wearing placed on the bed and she almost wanted to scream. This whole thing of balls and palace wasn’t her life, she was much more comfortable on the rink, fighting and using her strengths and quick thinking to get the upper hand and survive.

She supposed that fighting did ultimately lead her here, after all, she had won the tournament a couple months back and the Winter Ball that was being held in King Midas’ castle was to celebrate the victor. She and Queen Regina were the guests of honor and despite the attempt on her life, King Midas was graceful enough to invite them, along with extra security that the Queen had ordered around Emma. She almost wanted to scream that she didn’t need protection, almost spoke up in front of the monarchs, but a quick sharp glance from Regina’s dark chocolate eyes killed her courage in her throat. She had been foolish enough to get severely wounded, and this was the price she still had to pay.

The ride to the Gold palace was gratefully free of any sort of awkward situation, she had kept her eyes downcast when the Queen was taking roll just outside of the Dark palace in the morning, and she decided not to ride with the Queen in the carriage, choosing instead to ride horseback amongst the other knights. It was a simple distraction, although she could still feel the tugs of nervous energy in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know how she would be able to face the Queen at the ball and as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and vile start to crawl up her throat at the thought of seeing the Queen. They hadn’t talked about the incident, and she wasn’t sure just what the reaction might be.

She didn’t hate kissing the Queen, she felt something, some sort of tingling through her veins when she did. It was nice, unique, there was a fire that started to burn within her skin when they had kissed and Emma couldn’t figure out if it was the taste of her on her tongue that got her drunk or the comforting warmth of her skin on hers. She never felt anything like it before, never felt her entire being calling out to her partner and it scared her. She wanted to run, to leave and never return, but she didn’t, it was Regina who ran. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. Why did she leave? It wasn’t fair that it was the Queen, the woman she vowed to follow, to protect, to fight till her very last breath for. She was a Queen, the Queen. To entire villages and groups she was the Evil Queen. But somehow, in the deepest depths of her heart, she saw her as Regina. She saw the human behind the crown, the sarcastic woman who has an almost childlike wonder for a world she never knew, Emma’s world.

“At the end of the day,” She murmured to herself, pushing herself up off of the gold chair and towards the deep red dress placed tenderly on the wide bed fit for a monarch. “She’s the Queen and I’m, well. Me.” She was a knight, an orphan, she wasn’t anything special. There wasn’t anything she felt she could offer to a woman that can have anything she wants with the snap of her fingers.

* * *

Regina stared at her reflection in the mirror with an annoyed glare. In not so delicate words, she was asked to wear a dress that wasn’t as grim and depressing as her usual black dresses. She was tempted to say screw it and wear black anyway, but she had to play the good Queen. For now anyway. Diplomacy wasn’t her strongest suit, and she could easily melt the whole kingdom down to the ground, but she needed the treaty for her to strengthen the infrastructure of the outer borders. So, here she was, draped in a light pink, almost white, dress that caught the light filtering in from the windows, glittering silently.

Her face was light, the makeup she chose was one to match her dress, her hair styled back in a simple bun, fringes framing her cheeks, a white crown placed tenderly in her hair, braided carefully into her dark locks to keep it in place. It almost seemed as if someone had perfectly done her hair, instead of her magicking it into existence. She ran her hands over the diamonds sewn into her dress and she ignored the slight tremor in them. Regina wasn’t nervous. She laughs in the face of nerves. People don’t scare her. Monsters don’t scare her. She doesn’t run from anything, they run from her. Still, there was a small jittering in her stomach, her insides were churning, her head was spinning. She had to see Emma. She ran from Emma.

She was able to avoid riding with her at the castle, and she was both relieved, and concerned. Relieved that she had no clue what to even say to the blonde, or how to react after the Festival. And concerned because, well. She was pulling away. Regina scoffed, something like that shouldn’t be important to her. Emma was just a soldier, a knight in her ranks, just another pawn to be used in the military tango of the world of politics. Still, the thought of Emma pulling away from her left a sour taste in her mouth and couldn’t figure out exactly why. The Harvest Festival was nice, it was completely different than anything she’s ever seen, and she was thinking of ways to bring that joy into her court, into her kingdom. And then the kiss. Oh heavens. The kiss. But it was Emma’s face after the kiss that haunts her sleepless nights. The piercing of her eyes, the furrow of her brow. There was something swimming within those emeralds, a mixture of confusion and something Regina couldn’t bring herself to voice. She had run away. 

She had no guarantees of keeping another lover alive. Much less the desire to have another lover after what happened the last time. Regina wasn’t even sure if love was a great word for what she felt for the infuriating knight. She was amused, she cared about her wellbeing, hell, she was even fond of her. She refused to believe she was in love. Love was weakness. She was a Queen, a refined goddess, someone who was above the regular standards, that had to conform to the societal expectations of her kingdom. She had no use being weak in her position. But there was something about Emma. Something that made her magic hum within her veins, sparkling and burning throughout her skin. Either way, the blonde was definitely trying to avoid her, and Regina wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to face any sort of rejection from one of her subjects. Especially not in a different Kingdom.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The ballroom was in full swing by the time Emma entered. She was draped in a bright red, sleeved dress, one that curled around her bust and draped effortlessly over her legs. She was able to avoid wearing any sort of uncomfortable shoes, from the dress hiding her feet, and she had strapped a pair of daggers on the sides of each of her thighs. Emma wasn’t about to let anyone else take her off guard. Her hair was pulled back into a simple braided bun, one that a fellow servant had done for her, after she was struggling for a couple hours in front of the mirror, and she was flanked by Graham and another knight. She couldn’t recognize him by his helmet on his head, but she could feel knots of tension swirling within her gut. The others have never seen her in a dress this extravagant, and she could feel her cheeks burning as her fellow brothers in arms kept turning to take her in. She rolled her shoulders, taking a deep breath, and let herself take in her surroundings.

The walls were decorated with bright white and gold tinsel, draped in waves from window to window. There were carved golden statues of various lions staring down at the crowd from their high perch. The ceiling was so high, Emma felt as if she was as small as an ant, the effect making her a bit claustrophobic and she looked away. King Midas had his flags flying in reds and yellows and was even poised enough to fly Queen Regina’s flag, of course, it was miles underneath his. At the very least, the space was open and wide, there was a gentle waltz floating up from the end of the room, and Emma could feel her heart starting to beat in tune to the music. There were couples dancing in sync in the center, resembling that of a flower blooming and swaying to a nonexistent breeze. People were bathed in light colors, the women dressed in gold, while the men were strapping dark green suits. Towards the opposite side of the entrance were the steps leading towards three thrones, two of them were red and gold and one was red and black. There seated in the thrones was King Midas in a Red and gold suit, Princess Abigail, ever the rebellious one, wearing a violet and gold dress, and Queen Regina in a completely white dress.

Emma froze in her steps as she took in the view, the music fading to her ears as her vision narrowed on the Queen. She couldn’t remember a day or a moment when she ever saw Regina wearing white until tonight and she had to remind herself to breathe. Of course, she knew the Queen was beautiful, but here, now, she was something else. She had an easy happiness to her movements and it wasn’t until Graham gently nudged her forwards with his hand did Emma notice that the music and dancing had stopped. All eyes were on her, including those of the crown she swore to protect. With a deep and controlled breath, she walked forwards, keeping her head high, her back as straight as she could. She walked with all the calm and grace she never had, the only sound in the echoing room were her shoes on the tiles, her fellow knights behind her, and the small ruffling of the dress of both hers and those of the women as they parted, clearing the way for Emma to walk towards the monarchs watching from their perch.

Regina was watching with her face harsh and almost disgusted, disinterested, although her eyes were betraying her. They were glittering, reflecting the thousands of candles and the setting sun through the giant windows. She easily let her gaze sweep up and down Emma’s form, taking in the strong figure of the blonde in a dress. Regina had only ever been truly and thoroughly surprised twice in her lifetime. And this moment took the cake. She felt a wave of heat rush down her chest, her lips starting to tingle and she licked them, bringing her bottom lip in to gently bite down. Her mind flashed with vivid images of the knight in front of her, and suddenly all she wanted to do was taste her mouth again.

Emma bowed before Regina, Graham and the other following suit. Her knee hit the tiles, her closed fist over her heart and her head bowed. It was a simple traditional bow, one of practice, one that Emma found herself doing in her sleep. It was supposed to be simple, the least of all interactions she was supposed to have with Regina that night. That was, until Emma lifted her head and her emerald eyes met the predatorial darkness of the Queen’s, her lips curling up in a slight smirk. It should’ve been intimidating, but it sent chills down Emma’s spine, goosebumps prickling her skin and she could feel the heat starting to pool in her ears and cheeks, heading down to her chest.

As Emma stood, the music started back up again, and after only a brief moment of hesitation, the public continued their dance. However, Emma couldn’t see them, only heard the chords and the swish of the synchronized fabrics moving in the space. Her eyes were glued to Regina’s who stood slowly from her throne. With a quick glance and nod to the King, Regina took a calm and controlled step towards Emma, her back straight and with all the poise of the Queen that she is. She raised a sculpted eyebrow as she let her eyes wander over Emma’s face.

“I believe you owe me a dance, Lady Swan.”

“I-” Emma blinked, her brow furrowing and she wanted to take a step back but something, be it magic or just Regina’s magnetic pull, kept her feet firmly planted on the ground, her head starting to spin and swim as she tried to figure out what Regina meant. “I owe you a dance?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

Regina rolled her eyes, her hand on her hip. All the sass of the queen, and she looked Emma up and down, almost ready to ignore her and just walk away. It was already an awkward situation, the King and Princess Abigail watching their interaction closely, along with the knights flanking Emma. With a pointed look Emma stiffened, holding her hand out. She wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but nevertheless, she didn’t pull away when Regina’s hand slipped onto hers. She led Regina out to the dance floor, not completely certain on the waltz filtering through the air, but she knew enough to keep up. She prided herself on being a fast learner.

Emma turned to face the Queen, placing a gentle hand on the back on her shoulder blade, Regina’s hand landing just on Emma’s shoulder. With a confident smirk, Emma led Regina into the box step, slowly dancing to the beat of the music surrounding the hall. It wasn’t as close as the dance in the bar, there was a wide gap between them, and Emma figured it was fitting, considering where they were and the weight of the conversation looming ahead. “Thought I didn’t know how to waltz?”

“I knew you could dance.”

“Just liked my face then?”

“You could say that.” Regina didn't hide the sweep of her gaze dipping down Emma’s front, her eyes darkening with something Emma couldn’t really explain.

“The peasants are staring.”

“Let them stare. Does their presence bother you, Lady Swan? Does it embarrass you to dance with your Queen?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Emma frowned at that thought. She couldn’t imagine ever being embarrassed to dance with Regina. If anything, Regina should be the one to be worried about the looks and what the public would say if she danced with someone as insignificant as a random knight in her ranks. “I thought you didn’t like to dance.”

“A Queen dances the waltz every once in a while, if only to save face.”

“So this is what you consider fun? With all due respect it’s a bit boring.”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s the point of dancing if we’re just going in a circle?”

“What are you-”

“It’s extremely barbaric, and here I thought Royals were more than just stiff and boring.”

Regina narrowed her eyes, her lips pursing at Emma’s challenge. To the blonde’s credit, she was trying and failing to keep a giant grin off of her face, her dimples starting to appear. Regina’s hand tightened on Emma’s shoulder, the skirts of their dresses merging and melding together, pooling around them. Regina’s voice dropped an octave, low and threatening and sultry, almost enchanting. “Lady Swan, you’re very very lucky we’re in the ballroom surrounded by the public.”

“Or what?” She murmured cheekily, her eyebrows raised and her eyes darkened, her pupils dilating, the green of her irises becoming a halo. She was enjoying this, a bit too much, and could feel Regina’s voice send goosebumps all over her skin. “You’ll punish me?”

“The night’s still young.”

At that, Emma let out a gentle chuckle, rolling her eyes. With the movements of an expert, she spun Regina in her arms before dipping her. Her grip on the Queen was strong, she wasn’t going to let her fall to the floor, and was surprised that Regina’s hand on her shoulder didn’t tighten, almost as if she trusted Emma not to drop her. When Emma pulled her upright, there was some sort of emotion swimming through Regina’s eyes, something she couldn’t really read and just as fast as it appeared, it vanished into nothing.

“Where did you learn to waltz?”

“Mandatory training as a knight.”

“Liar.”

“It’s true.”

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Regina rolled her eyes, huffing softly. She was very good at keeping her face neutral, the only evidence of her entertainment were the sparkling in her chocolate eyes. There was always something about Emma, if it were any other knight, or person for that matter, who tried to speak to her the way Emma was, she would have fireballed them into extinction. But Emma, challenged her in a way no one else dared to. It was refreshing. Something to look forward to in a sea of boring politics and polite conversation. “It’s not like I cared anyway.”

“We need to talk.”

That sent goosebumps down Regina’s spine. The cold and detached way Emma uttered those words. It was as if on a snap, that happy bubbling feeling she had in her chest evaporated into nothingness, a sense of dread pooling in her stomach and vile crept up in her throat. Emma’s eyes were darting over Regina’s face, taking in her reaction, she figured, but didn’t give the blonde the satisfaction. Her lips pursed and she looked at the woman up and down before hesitantly murmuring, “Yes, I suppose we do.”

“Any place where we can get out of here?”

“I might have one, yes.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Emma and Regina strolled through a long walkway, the ceiling was tall and arched, painted with thousands of images from the Renaissance scenes, to biblical, to gothic moments of time and was decorated in a glittering gold finish and scattered with giant glass chandeliers. To the left were large arched widowed doorways leading out to the balcony, bringing in the light of the golden sun setting in the distance, peppered with golden suits of armor. To the right, the wall was completely covered in mirrors, reflecting the warmth of the outside. The whole room was bathed in orange, Regina walked over to one of the doors, resting against the archway. She kept her eyes on the horizon, taking a slow and calm breath as she heard Emma’s steps coming up behind her. “You wanted to speak?”

“Right.” Emma ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath. Her heart was hamming in her chest and she could feel something twisting and tightening in her gut. She couldn’t quite understand why it felt as if there was something wrapping itself around her heart, but she pushed through. “This isn’t easy for me to say. I think this.” Emma had to swallow, her mouth had completely gone dry and she couldn’t bring herself to look at the Queen. She turned her attention to the scenery in front of her, starting to feel calmer at the peacefulness outside. “Whatever. Is between us has to end.”

“What are you referring to?”

“This.” She waved her hand between the two of them, although she wasn’t sure why, considering Regina wasn’t even looking in her direction. “This tension between us. The kiss, everything.”

“You’re right. It hasn’t been appropriate. We have to end this little tango we’ve been doing. Obviously it isn’t leading to anything productive. Besides, I would hate to distract you from your duties more than you already have been.”

“Wait, what? Distracted?”

“Yes, Lady Swan. That’s the only reason why a knight of your stature has been able to let disgraceful little soldiers take the upperhand.”

“I am a great soldier, my feelings have nothing to do with my ability to fight.”

“Feelings?” Regina’s heart skipped a beat and she turned to face the knight beside her. In the low light of the setting sun her chocolate eyes were warm, golden brown. There was something swimming within them. She could feel her thundering heartbeat pulsin within her chest, echoing through her ears. She searched Emma’s face, it was bathed in a gentle glow, her emerald eyes were wide and held a bit of confusion as she took in the Queen before her.

“What?”

“What feelings?”

“That’s not what I meant, I-” Emma trailed off, finding it hard to find any sort of words to explain. She didn’t even know what she was trying to explain, much less how. The only thing she knew with certainty was that the way Regina was looking at her with something hopeful. She couldn’t quite explain just what she felt for the Queen. It wasn’t bad, but she didn’t quite understand what was going on. “I have feelings for a lot of things. I care about my fellow soldiers. I care about the fate of the kingdom. I care about you.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

Regina blinked at that, her eyes flickering over Emma’s face and her expression darkened, her eyes regaining the coldness she normally had. Emma shivered at that look, her heart sinking and her brow furrowing as she took in the sight of her gaze. It took till now, to see the ice and the uncaring intensity of the Queen to fully realize she hadn’t experienced it often, if at all. She had witnessed it many a time, sure, but she was never truly on the receiving end of it until tonight. There was something almost sinking in seeing that look cross the Queen, almost as if there was something registering, completely shutting Emma out of ever seeing more than just the royal people followed and feared, instead of Regina. It brought a strange sense of panic racing through her veins, the sudden and shattering thought that she was watching Regina slip away, pulling away from her again, she was losing her, for good this time.

Regina took a step back, the setting sun casting dark shadows around her eyes and there was a slight tremor in her hands, too small to be noticed by anyone that wasn’t Emma, and she turned, intent on walking out with her head held high. She needed to get away, her heart was thundering too fast and too hard in her chest and she was convinced the knight could hear it. How could she not? It was the only thing registering in Regina’s ears. Something dark and slimy started to curl around what was left of her heart and lungs, tightening and squeezing to the point where it was hard to breathe. Her magic was coiling within her veins, searing and scorching, burning her skin as it tried to fight against her control and blast out of control.

“Regina, wait.” Emma reached out, grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. She couldn’t leave, not yet. Regina almost ripped her arm off of Emma’s grip, her ire building in her throat. Anger was easier than this. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want nothing from you, Lady Swan.” It was low, almost threatening. Safe.

“Liar.”

“Who do you think you are?!” She turned sharply at that, her irises starting to glow violet, her hands sizzling and sparks shooting out of her fingertips. She yanked her arm away, her eyes glaring into Emma’s face, flickering back and forth, leaving a trail of fire. Her lips curled up into a snarl, her posture dangerous, every bit deserving of the title Evil Queen. But Emma didn’t back down, didn’t step away. No. She took a step forward, her eyes hardening and her back straightening. “How dare you think you can speak to me that way? How dare you think you can speak to me at all?”

“I don’t understand you Regina. I don’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You pretend to be this callous and cold person, this Queen that doesn’t care about anything or anyone, but you helped me with the ambush, with the attack at the tournament. Hell, you had me caged like a flightless bird in that room after I was completely healed with some arbitrary crap. I ran from the castle and you came running after me. We danced, we kissed. And then you poofed away. You ran. You act as if all of that means nothing to you. As if I mean nothing to you. I get it, you’re scared. Whatever it is you’re scared of, I’m not sure, but something is scaring you. You need to figure out what you want. What you want from me. Because I’m tired of playing your little game, I’m not some little toy for you to use until you get bored of me.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Then tell me. Why did you run?”

“Lady Swan-”

“No. Why did you run?”

“I refuse to let you speak to me this-”

“Why. Did. You. Run.”

“I was scared!” She shouted, her hands jumping in the air her magic shooting out in violet waves. “Happy? I. Was. Scared.”

“Of what?!”

“You never think, do you? Feelings distract, make you lose focus, gets you hurt. They make you less than what you are. They make you weak.”

“Is that what this is about?! Power?!”

“I don’t care about power!”

“Regina, you’re not making any sense. You say you don’t care about power, but then claim that feelings make you weak. Which is it? What do you want?”

“You!”

It was out. It slipped and she couldn’t take it back. She did want the blonde, and that scared her. She felt her magic awaken in her veins when she walks into the room, she felt the whole world start to shift, to move beneath her feet every time she was near. It was strange and new and terrifying all at once. She hadn’t felt anything so fiercely, so completely in her soul, in her very essence, and it shook her up inside. It was different and new, and yet so hauntingly familiar.

Emma had never truly understood just how someone could have their brain go completely blank. She had never experienced it, always had something going through her head, through her thoughts. Until this moment. She could feel everything freeze, her thoughts, her movements, her breath, even her very heart stopped for a brief moment. Until it clicked and she felt a tidal wave crash in her head. Goosebumps pricked her skin and she almost gasped for breath. The Queen wanted her? For what purpose, what reason? What did Emma do to warrant such a desire? It was hard to formulate anything other than a soft, “What?”

“I want you. And that scares me.”

“Why does it scare you?”

“Because,” She trailed off, turning away. Emma remained silent, giving Regina the space and time she needed to gather her thoughts, to figure out what to say. Her breathing was hitched, laboured. She looked away, her jaw clenching, tightening, before she let it go. It was almost a full minute when she finally turned back to face Emma, her eyes were warm, chocolate honey, a gentle glimmer trapped in them. Emma couldn’t be able to count how many emotions she could see in that look, from fear to frustration to something she couldn’t quite make out. “I don’t know how to love very well.”

“I don’t know how to love at all. We could both learn as we go.”

“I’d like that.”

Emma reached out a hesitant hand, her fingertips lightly tracing Regina’s hairline, gathering the loose strands and looping them behind her ear. It was a simple action, her touch was featherlight, almost as if she was afraid of Regina pulling away again. There was a hopeful smile, one sweet and caring, the hint of a dimple on her left cheek that Regina couldn’t pull herself from looking away. There was that magnetic hum again, that pull as their lips drew closer and closer still until they meet in a gentle kiss. It was slower this time, explorative, they took that moment to probe, learn the layout, the dance. A small noise escaped, a mix of a sigh and a hum, the corners twitched upwards in a smile. Emma wrapped her arm around Regina’s waist, pulling her close as Regina’s hands looped around Emma’s neck, warm and soft, fingers massaging at the nape of her neck, tangling with a few strands of golden hair that came undone. When air became a necessity, their lungs straining and burning, they pulled away, pupils blown.

Before either of them could say anything, their breaths mingling in short pants, there was a distinct sound of high heels clicking on the tiles echoing through the hallway. It came from the opposite end, sounding closer. Regina stepped back, her brow furrowing and she turned. Down the hall, heading straight for them was the ghost of her past. Dressed in black, hair piled high on her head, back straight, eyes sharp and piercing, and lipstick as red as blood. Cora. Her mother. She moved with a purpose, a kind of fire in her eyes, and with a wave of her hand, Regina felt the familiar push of cold unfeeling magic against her chest. With a burst of light violet magic, Emma and Regina were a foot apart, the tendrils swirling, keeping her arms at her sides no matter how hard she fought against it.

“Insolent child.” She growled low, her lips curling up into a snarl.

“You?” Emma blinked, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It seemed as if Queen Cora hasn't aged a day, plucked from her memory all those years ago. Did magic preserve her youth? “You’re here?”

“I’m not talking to you yet, you stupid little insect.” Her eyes were firmly glued to Regina, narrowed and chilled. It sent a shiver down Regina’s spine, her head shook softly, not believing her eyes.

“It’s not possible. I trapped you in that mirror. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Stupid child. Even with Rumple’s guidance, you’re still a fool. You can’t keep me trapped forever, no matter how powerful you think you are. You could never embrace it. Not like I did.”

“How-”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. I got out, no thanks to you, came to pay you a visit and what do I happen to find? You consorting with a commoner again like everything I did for you was nothing.”

“Mother.”

“Wait, what?” Emma breathed out, her eyes darting from Regina to Cora. It wasn’t possible. It can’t be possible. Heavens don’t let it be possible. “She’s your mother?”

Cora’s eyes snapped to the blonde, her glare just as nasty and distorted as all those years ago. Emma set her jaw, her eyes set against the Queen Mother. She was familiar, there was something crossing over Cora’s eyes, almost recognition but she couldn’t be sure. “Who are you?”

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

“You seem familiar.”

“You killed my mother.”

Cora let out a sharp laugh at that, rolling her eyes. She stepped closer, her magic slamming Emma against the stone wall. “Dear, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Emma?” Regina’s voice floated through but with a wave of Cora’s hand, Regina lost it, opening her mouth and trying to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Her eyes were wide and she watched with muted horror.

“My mother was Snow White.”

At that, Cora blinked, faltered in her step. A shadow crossed over her eyes, familiarity. She recognized the blonde in front of her. The little runt that wouldn’t bow down. The disobedient child with the magical heart. Of course, she knew there was more to it, some sort of innate light magic that protected her that day. And from the looks of it, she didn’t seem to even know she had it, much less how to use it. Wasted potential. It made her sick.

Emma took the chance, her hand tightening around the hilt, and she pulled it out of the scabbard. With practiced ease, she pulled against the magic, getting enough slack to throw the dagger, the blade aimed straight at Cora’s heart. She was fast, strong. Never missed. Unfortunately, Cora was faster, she was immediately swallowed up in purple smoke, the dagger phasing through and burying itself in the stone. Emma was immediately let go, falling on her hands and knees in a gasp, but when she looked up, both Cora and Regina were gone.

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Regina sat at her vanity, a scowl curling her lips as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It's been three months since the Winter Solace Ball, and spring was just starting to burst through the white snow. Regina saw none of it, having stayed in her palace, in her room for the duration, refusing to leave for more than a few hours before slipping back in. She reached out, her hand curling against the stem of her wine glass. She raised her chin, sitting up straighter as she glared into her own eyes. They were puffy, her cheeks were red and wet, her hair was disheveled. There was a tiredness to the way her shoulders were slouched, her head resting on her hand, even the ink black trails on her cheeks and smudges around her eyes seemed to yawn. The cool liquid touched her lips, the alcohol swirling in her system, making her tongue looser, her restraint almost nonexistent.

“Sydney,” She called, a smirk playing on her lips as her reflection disappeared in black, the outline of a man’s face flickering in a deep sapphire, almost as if a blue candle was being held dramatically under his chin. His eyes sparkled in the darkness, his eye sockets, nose, lips, and cheeks were glowing. He frowned, looking over his Queen with a tired expression but anything that was swimming in his head remained to him. “Show her to me again.”

“Your Majesty, I don’t thin-”

“I don’t recall ever asking you to talk.” Regina’s eyes darkened, her fingers gripping the stem so tight that the glass was shaking, inches from snapping. “Show her to me  _ now. _ ”

Sydney pursed his lips, staring at the Queen. She raised an eyebrow, impatiently motioning for him to continue, her hand waving the glass, the liquid sloshing, splashing the wooden finish of the desk. She kept her eyes trained on the man in the mirror, refusing to back down. With a heavy sigh, he faded again, his face morphing into the grounds of the town Regina knew well.

_Emma was on the losing end of a fight, her jaw set in a snarl and a fire in her eyes, but she was too lost in the anger to focus on her opponent. There was a vertical cut over her right eyebrow, dripping blood down over her eye and great bruise starting to form on her left cheekbone, red spotting her skin, starting to swell. She pushed back with brute strength, repeatedly swinging her sword, growling in frustration as each thrust was met with an expert block. Eventually David just pushed her down, kicking her sword away from her. He was a shepherd boy who inherited the farm once his mother Ruth passed. His hair was light blonde, a kind of gentle blue eyes, kind and caring. For a shepherd, he was an expert at sword fighting, taught Emma all she knew to get to the top of the ranks._

_“Again?” He looked at her, frowning in concern._

_Emma spit, blood speckling the white snow. “What do you want from me?”_

_“You’ve been off on your fighting.” He rolled the light leather armor on his shoulders, offering his hand to help her up. She looked at it as if it was going to bite her, before she sighed, taking it and letting him pull her up._

_“It’s just an off day.”_

_“Yeah, well, it’s been an off 3 months.”_

_Emma blinked, frowning at him. “Has it really been 3 months?”_

_He nodded, sheathing his sword and heading towards the waterskins._

_Emma let out a slow breath, leaning down to pick up her sword._

_“What’s got you so off?”_

_“It’s nothing.”_

_He raised an eyebrow, “If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be this affected.”_

_“David, honestly,” She stretched, reaching up to touch her injured cheek, wincing slightly at the stinging pain that shot through her system. “It’s nothing.”_

_“Quite the nothing.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_“Emma, we’ve known each other for almost almost two decades now. I know when you’re hurting. You have to look for the moments.”_

_“Moments? Really?”_

_“Hush.” He gave her a sharp look as he met her mocking eyes, “Yes, moments. Life’s full of them. Shitty ones, happy ones, sad ones. More bad than good, but if you keep fixating on the bad moments, the good ones will pass you by and before you know it, you missed it.”_

“What?!” Regina growled as the scene faded from the mirror, Sydney’s face appearing once more in the darkness. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the face, a fire burning in her chocolate eyes as they glowed violet with magic. “I didn’t tell you to stop!”

“My Queen,” He spoke softly, his head tilting in the suspended darkness. “I don’t know how this could be helping you in any way.”

“What makes you think you have an opinion in my life?” She stood unsteadily, her grip on her glass tightening, the liquid sloshing around, splashing against the dark wood of the floor. She sneered, her lip curled up in a snarl. “Who do you think you are?”

He looked past her, and Regina turned, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. She rolled her eyes, her shoulders drooping as she turned back. She waved her hand over the mirror, violet whisps floating out disintegrating as it got within a couple inches from her fingers. The dark face vanishing, the mirror reflecting the hollow look in Regina’s eyes. She looked away, turning to face the figure standing tall at the door. His black overcoat with the dramatic collars were offset by the bright white of the cravat. He was small, his hair white, his scalp was nearly smooth except for the wisps of sheer hair that was on either side of his head, starting from low mutton chops at his chin and reaching back. His face was rectangular, his eyes were almond and kind, his mouth was drawn in a tight line, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he frowned at his daughter.

“Daddy, please,” She sighed, pulling the glass up to her lips and taking a drink. “Just go, leave me.”

“I’ve watched you go on like this for long enough.” He stepped into the room, walking up to her and taking the cup from her hands, setting it down on the table behind her. With a gentle hand on the small of her back, he led her to sit on the bed, sitting beside her and taking her hand in his. “Now let’s solve whatever this is  _ together _ .”

Regina sighed, falling back on the bed. “It’s nothing. I just need to be alone.”

“Darling, you may have shut me out from your life, but you’re hurting. And it hurts me to see you like this. Talk to me. Maybe we can fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix. I’m fi _ ne _ .” Her voice broke towards the end, her eyes watering and she cursed at herself for being like this. He nodded softly, his brow raising as he took in her quivering chin and quick shallow breaths.

“I thought we were past this. My child, what are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Then why are you running?”

“Who says I’m running?”

“Hiding then.”

“Daddy, this is ridiculous.”

“I think you’re hiding because you’ve fallen in love and it scares you.”

Regina stilled, a silent traitorous tear slipping down the corner of her eye and burying itself in her hair. She looked up at her father, her vision wavering and spinning and blinked to keep him in focus. After a couple breaths, she scoffed. “I’m not in love.”

“I can see it on your face. In your words. In your very breath. But you’re afraid.”

“I’ll humor you,” She sat up, leaning on her arms. “What am I afraid of?”

“Getting hurt again.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She scoffed, letting herself fall back with a huff. “I had love. And he’s buried back home underneath the apple tree.”

“You faced your mother once and you can face her again, Regina. You can love and be loved again. You just have to take that chance. Love is important. Don’t you remember? It’s the most powerful magic of all.”

She rolled her eyes, “Stop with the fairytales, Daddy. You used to tell me this all the time when I was growing up and guess what? It’s not true. Daniel is still dead, and I’m all alone. What makes you think this time is any different?”

“So you admit you’ve fallen for someone again?”

“Why can’t you just leave me?”

“She has.” Cora burst into the room, her eyes glaring over the pathetic form of her daughter. She stood straight, her head held high, almost as if disgusted at even being in the same space. “She’s been pathetic and moping. Honestly, it’s worse than the stable hand. At least with him, you made an effort not to be a disgraceful mess.”

“You stay out of this Mother.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone, you insolent child. Don’t think I have forgotten your little acts of rebellion and betrayal. You were always such a disappointment.”

“Now, Cora-”

“Stop coddling her.” She snapped, turning to glare daggers at Henry, a dangerous fire burning inside. "She's not a child. She doesn't have the privilege to mope around feeling sorry for herself."

"Mother-"

"I thought you learned your lesson after that ridiculous boy, but it seems like you'll always be a disgrace. Falling for commoners, it's beneath you. All my hard work, all those years teaching you, wasted."

"You seem to forget, you were a commoner as well, Cora." Henry stood from his seat, his hands brushing at the nonexistent dust on his chest. "A miller's daughter."

"Yes, and I moved  _ up _ . Our daughter is moving down."

"I seem to recall, it was you who made her marry the king. You weren't there to see her. She was miserable. She deserves to be happy."

"Not with that girl."

"That girl is the strongest knight in Regina's ranks."

"She is a danger to our daughter. She tried to  _ kill _ me."

"You killed her mother." Regina spoke up, standing to face Cora. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes curious as she examined the woman in front of her. She used to crave her approval, her affection. Her love. The years hardened her heart, turned it to stone, made her numb. There was something lingering, a curious itch. Something felt off. "Did you try to kill her too?"

"That was years ago."

"Did you?'

"How dare you?!" Cora snarled, her hand flipping, magic snapping out, tightening around Regina and lifting her up off of her feet. There was a dangerous fire in Cora's eyes, and the magic tightened, sucking the breath out of Regina's lungs. There was almost something pitiful in the squeak that escaped her lips, the fear evident in her eyes. "You might be a Queen, but you're still my daughter. You got your power from  _ me _ , so I'd watch my tongue if I were you. Without me, you're nothing more than a sad lost little girl."

Regina snapped, her hands flying against Cora, her magic surging from her fingertips, violet bursts pushing at Cora and sending her flying to the wall and her feet landed gently back on the tiles. She tried to use her magic again, but Regina was stronger, keeping her pinned. She could feel the roar of her power, strong and heavy, burning at her insides. Her mother's pushed against her, more of a whisper against the wave of Regina's power. "I admit, I owe you a lot. You're my mother, after all, but don't delude yourself into thinking I'm nothing without you."

"How-"

"Shut it. I'm tired of being afraid of you. This is  _ my _ life.  _ My _ future. And I will do as I please. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a knight to see."

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Riding out to the town was more of a challenge than Regina thought. She knew exactly where it was, having been there multiple times before, but this time, it felt as if the path was twice as long. There was something twisting in her gut, dark and fearful, sending a vile taste in her mouth. She didn't know what to say to the blonde, much less how she will react at seeing her after so long. It was hard, she figured, and she almost wanted to turn around and head back, but she kept her head high. She had changed from the mess she was wearing, draped in a royal blue dress with a golden belt, a bright green silk hood.

Even though Spring was upon them, small flowers bursting through the snow and the trees starting to pepper the pristine white with deep green leaves. There was still the brisk chill in the air, the breath visible in gentle puffs. The crunch underneath the hooves as Rocinante snorted. It was calm and Regina looked around. Something felt off, it was quiet. Something pulled by Rocinante's foot, a small, almost invisible string. It was too late to stop it, arrows whizzing past and if it hadn't been for Regina's magic stopping them in midair, it would've buried themselves in Regina's head and heart.

"Well, looks like we finally found the royal rat." A voice called from the distance. A fireball leapt onto Regina's palm, her face contorting into a disinterested snarl as her keen eyes scanned the horizon. "We've been waiting for you."

"Who are you?"

"Would you look at that boys! The Queen doesn't know who we are!" Out from the woods stepped a man in green, a dark brown almost wood hood, his hair matted and a beard. His blue eyes piercing against the white of the snow. One by one, men popped out of the woods, around, in front, behind, surrounding the Queen, who was riding alone. "Allow me to introduce ourselves. I'm Robin Hood, and this is my gang of merry men."

"What do you want with me? I don't consort with pine sniffers and if you think I'm giving you any sort of gold, you've got another thing coming."

"We don't care about your money, we're here for revenge."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are us peasants so insignificant to you that when you kill us, we don't even make a blip in your mind?"

"You're nothing but lowlife bandits. What makes you think I had anything to do with you?"

Robin pointed at the fireball in Regina's hand, a smug smirk on his face. "One of our archers burned to death, in the middle of summer, away from any one who could even set him on fire. Along with three others being killed by sword, one even being my dear best friend."

"I don't recall asking when I cared."

"Your majesty, we're here to teach you a lesson. Mess with one, you mess with all of us."

Regina flung the fireball, but he dodged. The fire hitting the tree behind him and quickly sparking to life, melting the snow in a flash. He pulled back with bow, notching an arrow and letting it fly. She caught it effortlessly shooting him a glare. "That almost hit my head."

"Maybe I should try harder then."

The men jumped, Regina was strong, but she was severely outnumbered. They spooked Rocinante, getting him to lift up and kick, whining loudly, throwing Regina off of his back. He galloped away, off into the direction back to the castle. She landed with a thud, her back hitting the harsh ground, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her magic shot out, in an attempt to defend herself melting the snow beneath and around her when cold metal snapped around her wrists. There was a rush of something within her, a draining empty feeling. The hum of magic gone in a blink from within her veins, and she felt weaker, not even able to breathe correctly without it.

"Like it?" Robin was hovering over her, an almost predatory look in his eyes. She tried to kick, to push him away, to summon a fireball and burn them all down but she couldn't feel her magic anymore, couldn't access it. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, yanking her up and before she could fight it, she was already bound in ropes that cut into her skin. "Enchanted cuffs. Stole these from a crocodile. With them, all magic users lose their magic."

"What do you want from me?'

"We want you to learn what happens when you mess with us. We  _ might  _ let you live."

* * *

  
  
  


Regina was tired. They had trudged her through the snowy woods for almost two hours. It was long enough for her to figure out a few things. One was, of course, how much she absolutely wanted to kill them all. She was able to figure that she wasn't too far from the town, bordering close to the very outskirts. If she yelled out, there was a great chance for someone, maybe even Emma, could hear her. But that would be risky, Robin and his band of rats would silence her before anyone could even find her. She was foolish in coming alone. She had before, she was confident nothing could ever happen. Who would even dare to go against the Queen? Now, no one knew where she was, she was at the mercy of tree huggers.

When they reached the camp, it was almost exactly as she imagined it. Small, insignificant, barren. There was a fire pit in the center, surrounded by a couple of tents and small huts and fabrics, but there was nothing of importance. And the smell. Regina pulled a face when it hit her. The stench of mud and sweat and waste, both human and food, and she wondered just how often the barbarians around her had bathed.

"Daddy!" A little boy raced out of a tent, dressed in green. His hair was a mess of dark brown curls, his piercing blue eyes lighter and kinder than the father. He couldn't have been more than four years, and he jumped into Robin's arms, wrapping around his neck in a hug. "I'm hungry."

Robin's face broke out into a giant grin, a gentle chuckle erupting from his lips and it was jarring, the sudden change from vicious and wound up to caring and relaxed. The gang disbursed, as Robin barked instructions, handing his son off to one of the men named Little John, before turning to his prisoner. His face was grim and Regina could practically see every word and number fly through his head as his eyes flickered over her face. Eventually he spoke, careful and calculated. "I won't kill you."

Regina almost faltered at that. He wasn't going to kill her, but what  _ was _ he going to do? There's so much more than death. Death was quick, almost painless. But torture. Keeping them alive. That was a fate worse than death. A shiver went through her spine, and not from the cold, as thousands of scenarios flipped through her mind. Some of the acts were things she's done to others, and the rest were acts she's only ever heard about. Each one was worse than the last. "What?"

"I  _ can't  _ kill you."

"You can't?"

He looked around, before leading her towards another tent, it was large and messy. A wooden desk sat centered in the space, an array of toys and papers scattered all over the table and floors, ranging from drawings to more official documents. Despite the air outside, it was relatively warm in the tent. "I had a wife, Roland's mother, Marian. When she passed away from the consumption, I was devastated. I wished and begged the blue star to bring me Marian back, to bring me my wife."

Regina rolled her eyes, already bored. She didn't care about the little woodland family, about his life of tragedy. His face soured as he watched her reaction. He sat in his chair and Regina almost figured it would be her chance to run out, but something was telling her to stay and listen.

"Anyway, a fairy appeared. She told me she couldn't bring back Marian, but she could show me the way to my soulmate. She sprinkled this dust over me, and we flew into the night, to this stable in the middle of the night. She said that my soulmate was inside. I didn't go in, didn't care to go in. I was still mourning my wife. But I did see who it was, for the future."

Regina scoffed at that, "You honestly expect me to believe that bull? That you're what? My soulmate because of some dust a strange woman hit you with?"

"Believe what you want. The point of the matter is, when it comes to fate, destiny. I'm destined to be yours, just as you're mine."

"I belong to no one. My happy ending isn't a man."

"As I refuse to believe I'm fated to be with the likes of you. And yet, here we are. So you see, I can't kill you. If it's true, I'd be condemning myself to a life of solitude."

"So what? You're going to keep me here as a prisoner till I fall for your rugged looks? Where you come from, people bathe in the river and use pinecones for money. There's nothing more disgusting than the likes of you."

"I'm going to keep you here, yes, but not as a prisoner. At least, not a conscious one."

Regina almost took a step back when he pulled out an apple. To the naked eye, it was a simple apple, red and juicy and sweet. But to one who has studied magic for years, she could feel the curse hissing and whispering at her. "Where did you get that?"

"Same place I got the cuffs. See, I've been planning this for almost a year now. The perfect plan. I couldn't just outright take you from your palace, from under your knights and soldiers and many many servants. And even then, your magic was an issue. And what to do with you once I had you."

"A sleeping curse can't be forced upon. It's taken, voluntarily and there's  _ no way _ I'll ever take that curse willingly."

"Why not? Scared that what I said was actually true? That I'm your true love instead of the blonde knight?"

Regina froze at that, her face and eyes turning colder, harsher. They knew about Emma? What else did they know? What did they do to her? What were they planning? Robin's infuriating smirk kept growing into a toothy grin, vicious and angry.

"Yes, I know about her. She's strong, I'll give you that. But ultimately, she's not our target, you are. She fights on your orders, she's nothing more than an obedient dog."

"You can't convince me to take that curse."

"She's not our original target, but we're not beneath making her our target. Burning down the town, raiding and killing. Making you watch as we take your little toy and-"

"Stop!"

"Oh? Protective, are we?"

"You leave her alone."

"We will, if…" He tossed the apple up in the air, catching it with the other hand before holding it out to the Queen.

Regina's chocolate eyes flickered down to the apple, her stomach twisting in knots. She doesn't want to take it, no one does, but if she refuses. She shut her eyes tight, willing the images to go away as they flashed through her head. With a deep breath, her shoulders sagged and she stepped forwards, taking the apple from his hands. "She'll find you, you know. You'll all pay for this."

"Don't count on it, Queenie."

With a glare Regina brought the apple up to her lips, the scent of bitter magic mixed with sweet apple infiltrated her nose. She could hear the whispers of the spell, luring and calling, empty promises and words. She bit in, the crunch the only thing she heard apart from the racing thunder of her heart. It was tasteless, not like the apples at her castle, but it did the job. Within seconds, Regina collapsed to the floor, deep under the sleeping curse, the apple falling from her hand.

  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Emma strolled through the halls of the palace, her eyes tracking each and every corner. It wasn't easy, coming back after so long. There was a random spot in the middle of the road, where the snow melted and the trees were singed. The remains of a bandit trap were left behind and Emma almost went out to check it out before deciding against it and continuing on her tracks. Coming back on the palace grounds proved to be a challenge as well. Her fellow knights kept coming up to her, sticking up a conversation, asking where she disappeared to, what happened. It was hard to slip away, to keep from saying anything that might incriminate her or Regina in anyway.

Regina. She was trying hard not to think about her. It proved impossible. Every voice was hers, every laugh, every figure. It was as if she was in her food, in her water, in her thoughts, in the very air she breathed. She missed the Queen, couldn't really explain why there was a tug at her heart at the thought of being without her. It was part of the reason she was back in the castle.

She wanted to say that was the reason, but it would've been a lie. She was here for Cora, to finish what the woman started all those years ago. She drew her sword as she neared the throne room, could feel the women's presence before she could see it. With a deep breath and a solid kick, she burst through the doors, the wood splintering and crackling beneath her force and she almost raced towards the woman sitting on the chair.

Cora rolled her eyes, flicking her wrist. Violet magic shot out, Emma's sword flying out of her tight grip before the violet tendrils curled around Emma's torso, tightening and lifting her up off of her feet. "You."

"Seriously?"

"Must I be cursed to suffer through the likes of you?"

"Listen lady, I ask myself the same question."

"I am  _ your Queen _ ."

"Negative, Regina is my Queen."

"What are you even doing here?"

"I came to avenge my mother's death."

"Your mother was a bandit, she deserved what she got."

"My mother wasn't perfect, but she was all I had. You took that from me. You tried to kill me."

"You seem to have grown up quite well for yourself without her. A knight. Better than a dirty bandit, I suppose. You made it to the palace, just not in the same exact way I did."

"What are you talking about?"

"We're not so different, you and I. I was a  _ peasant _ like you. A commoner. But I ascended and became Queen. Took a throne. You ascended and became a knight. Not so glamorous, but noble."

"I'm  _ nothing _ like you. I don't kill innocents. I don't have magic."

"But you kill to defend? Tell me, if someone were to hurt Regina, would you kill them?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course. I swore to protect her."

"You stupid child. Can't you see? You're exactly like me. As for the magic, why do you think I couldn't take out your heart?"

"What?"

"I've read about you, or at least, people like you. You're a Savior. Destined to protect, to destroy those that threaten the peace of the kingdom they live in. But you're special aren't you? Born of  _ true love _ . White magic in each and every cell."

"I don't have magic."

"That you know of, that you can control. But if you let me help you, I can teach you. To harness the power within. You have so much potential. Don't waste it."

"What's the price?'

"What do you mean?"

"Magic always comes with a price, and with  _ you _ , I'm sure it's something large and ridiculous."

Cora tightened her grip, her magic squeezing at Emma for that comment. If it's one thing she hated more than commoners who think they own the world, its commoners with a lip. Emma was cocky and self assured, she knew her strengths, had a way of infuriating everyone she met. Just what Regina saw in her, Cora couldn't quite understand. "Your heart. The price would be your fealty to me. Absolute loyalty."

"I told you before and I'll say it again, I'll never bow to you."

"But you'll bow for my daughter?"

"I didn't know she was your daughter."

"And now that you do? You'll reject her as your Queen?"

"No." The thought never did cross her mind, and it almost shocked her at the intensity and speed with which she denied that. No, she wouldn't reject Regina. In any capacity. She didn't know Cora was her mother, and it made it all the more difficult, but she never entertained the possibility of rejecting her role as a knight, as  _ her _ knight. It was always difficult, wasn't it? She had gone through most of her life plotting to track down and kill Cora. And when she finally found her, she can't. Not just because she's being lifted off of her feet in the air, but because Cora is Regina's mother.

Could she be so cold and emotionless to kill her? To hurt Regina? Despite all the lies and things Snow did to her, she still loved her. Looked for her approval. Mourned her death. Cora was a monster, she was sure of it, but she was still a mother. Emma knew, some deep part of Regina must long for the same thing she did. She couldn't bring herself to curse Regina to a life like hers. Her whole life all came down to this, to the very question. A choice. Snow or Regina. Revenge or Love.

"I suppose you can be rather charming when you want to be."

"What are you talking about?"

"Forgive me for trying to make sense as to what my daughter could ever see in a woman of your stature."

"Power and status has nothing to do with the affairs of the heart."

"Says the child of true love."

"You keep mentioning true love. I don't know what you're talking about. I never met my father, and as far as love goes, everything is true if its complete."

"I'll forgive your ridiculous comment for lack of better education. True love is claimed to be the most powerful magic of all. I beg to differ, love is weakness, but it seems to have some sort of basis. Two powerful magic beings together could make the impossible possible."

"Could it make you interesting or likeable?"

"Enough with this charade. It's clear to me you won't be taking my offer to help you learn. Suit yourself. Where's Regina?"

"How should I know? I haven't seen her since the ball."

"She left the castle to go find you."

"What? Why me? What for?"

"I wasn't aware ny name changed from Cora to Regina. How do you expect me to know what's going on in that insolent child?"

"Well if she's not here, and she's not there, where is she?"

  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

Emma raced through the woods, her heart thundering in her chest. She was right there, right at that moment, and she couldn't do anything about it. Her horse was huffing, her hooves crunching and slamming into the snow and ground, kicking up dirt as she galloped through the path. She reached the point, where the snow had melted, pulling on her reins to calm her horse into a soft trot. Her eyes scanned through the trees, looking for some sign of direction. Regina was taken from this very spot, on her way to Emma and she passed this. Had a feeling to investigate but ignored it. Guilt started to writhe and twist at her insides. If Regina got hurt, if she was killed or worse. Emma couldn't even think of finishing that thought. No, she  _ had _ to be okay.

Half buried, almost missed by the shrubbery and branches was a small piece of fabric, billowing in the chilly air. Emma hopped down, landing on her feet, a puff of breath escaping her mouth as she exhaled. She walked over, picking the strip up and rubbed it against her fingertips. Silk. She drew her sword, using it to swipe, slicing through the branches and there, behind the bushes and thorns were footprints. Fresh enough to follow. Only one thought raced through her mind, one word,  _ Regina. _

It took her almost 4 hours to get to the outskirts of the small shanty town of tents nestled within the trees. She kept herself as close to the trees, hidden from view, her mother's voice of long ago ringing in her ears. She had to go careful and slow, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon, vigil against any trap or lookout. The sun was starting it's descend on the horizon, and Emma figured she had a couple hours of daylight left. Eventually, almost 10 feet away from the campsite, she found the first lookout. She sneaked up behind, the snow relatively quiet beneath her feet until she got near him. Using the hilt of her sword, she slammed it against the back of his head, and he fell with a thud, completely knocked out. She wondered just how many she had to fight, before she rolled her eyes. It didn't matter to her how many, she would take on thousands if it meant keeping Regina safe.

There was a man sitting by the firepit on a log, his hair matted and his clothes dirty and worn. He was focusing on something in his hands, the glint of a blade reflecting the light of the sun as he dug it into the wood. Emma immediately recognized the action, the movements memorized in her mind, her mother's hands quick and steady, carving out arrow after arrow from the bark of the willow trees. The surrounding snow melted into the dirt and mud from people walking there and the heat. She could feel it hit her chest. There was something in the air, some sort of trepidation, of confirmation. She knew Regina was here, she had to be. She wasn't going to stop until she found her.

She pushed forward, drawing her sword up, pointing it at the man. She knew him, or rather, knew  _ of _ him. The children in the town seemed to catch on to his legends and stories, making him out as a some sort of folk hero, a vigilante against the crown for those that needed it. But she knew what he was, a bully. He stole from the crown and sold the goods to pirates, blackmailed other villagers into paying for his protection, getting others to do his dirty work to keep his hands clean. Robin of Locksley, Robin Hood. "Where is she?"

He looked up at her, his face was one of ease, almost as if he knew she was coming. He was expecting her. The clearing was empty, there was nothing and no one in sight. He was planning this. Robin stood from his seat, his lips curling up into a wide smile. "Nice of you to make an appearance. I figured I might have had to send a message."

"What? Where is she?!"

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Lady Swan. We haven't gotten to the  _ why _ yet."

"I don't care about your stupid little motivations. What have you done with her?"

"She's safe and alive. Which is more than I can say for you. More than you can say for my brothers that you took down in cold blood."

She rolled her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other as she kept from snapping at him. "Fine, I'll play your game. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the men you killed.  _ My _ men. Good men. With families, people that needed them."

"And yet, they work for you."

"Because we're fighting for good. Against a corrupt crown. From those that take advantage of the little people. People like  _ us. _ People like  _ you _ , Emma. You're like us, one of us."

"You know, I keep hearing that, and it keeps being as ridiculous as it sounds. I'm nothing like you."

"Of course you are. You're a lost little orphan, but even then, you're not so lost. You were born a bandit, a commoner like us. You gained a title and a sword and now you think you're above us, better than us."

"I'm better only because I have morals. I don't pillage, don't attack innocent people, don't take advantage of people that have no other option  _ but _ to join you. Your so called innocent men swung first. I'm nothing like you. I'm not a monster."

"Your mother was one of us. She was competition. Greatest female bandit this kingdom had ever seen. It's too bad you're nothing like her. You took after your disgrace of a father."

Emma swung, aiming the blade directly at Robin's head. Something within her snapped. How dare he? He knew  _ nothing _ about her. And yet. He claimed to know her father, something even Snow refused to talk about. Robin stopped her blade with his. He wasn't an expert in sword fighting, more used with bows and arrows, and he was at a disadvantage, but he was confident he could keep her at bay long enough to get through to her. He pushed her back, watching her heave and pant, her hands tightening into fists at her sides, her grip on the hilt enough to bend and snap the metal.

"You never met him, did you? You don't know what happened with him." It was more of a statement than a question, of course she didn't know. Snow died before she could tell her, and even then, he went through huge extremes to make sure it was never found out. "I was there when they met, when they were together. He was part of my band of merry men. He was one of us too. I can tell you everything you want to know if you'll join me."

She was tired of this, of the belief that she was easily bought, easily convinced to betray Regina. She wasn't a simple scrooge they can manipulate and control. She was strong, smart. A warrior. A knight. She refused to back down, to bend to other people's will. She swung again, only this time, she didn't miss, the side of the blade hitting Robin's head, sending him flying into the dust. He tried to get up, but she was on him in an instant, kicking at his side. Her foot connected with his rib and he spun in the air, his back hitting the harsh gravel below. There was a distinct fear in his eyes, and he raised his hands, almost pleading her to stop as she heaved, aiming at his neck.

"Papa! NO!" a small voice made her freeze in her stance, from the corner of her eyes she could see a small child struggling against the hold of a man. The boy had tears in his eyes, reaching forwards, his gaze glued to the man underneath her heel. He was whimpering, hiccuping in sobs as he cried.

Emma buried her sword a hare width of Robin's head. If she had moved an inch to the left, he would be dead before the hilt hit the ground. She got low, a growl in her voice as she kept her eyes to the boy. "Don't make me regret sparing your life, Locksley. Take your boy and your men and leave the kingdom. You have three days to disappear before I hunt you down and finish this."

"You won't be able to wake her up." He spat out, it was pitiful, almost prideful, a sneer of a man who already lost. "She's under a sleeping curse. She'll never wake up."

Emma pulled the sword out of the ground, sending dirt flying into his eyes. A petty win, of course, but one that brought a smile to her face. He cried out, pulling himself up and stumbling away, a sharp whistle into the air and she could hear rustling around her, fading out into the woods, the burning of eyes on her skin gone. She sheathed her sword, poking her head in each tent, her heart thundering in her chest. What did he do to her?

It took her three tries before she found her, nestled in a small cot. She looked peaceful, her face relaxed and calm. There was still a warm color to her cheeks, almost as if she was sleeping, breathing, frozen in time. Emma stepped forwards, her eyes starting to swim and sting from unshed tears. This was her fault. If she hadn't continued on her path, if she had stopped and investigated before, she could've prevented this.  _ She'll never wake up _ .

She gathered Regina in her arms, running a gentle hand through her hair, her touch soft and sweet. Her hand curled over her cheek, her thumb caressing Regina's cheekbone, tracing the path. "I'm sorry," she whispered, it was too late. An empty apology that the Queen will never hear. She failed her. "I'm so sorry."

Emma rested her forehead against Regina's, her eyes shutting close as she tried to push her tears back. A lump formed in her throat and she wanted to cry out, a sob trying to burst it's way out of her chest. There was something humming within her veins, a warmth began to spread through her chest. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to Regina's in a final kiss.

There was a shock, a pulse of light bursting between them, spreading out in a flash of light and color. Regina gasped awake, her eyes wide as they snapped open. Her hands reached forwards, grabbing at Emma's arms, holding her in place. There were tears in her eyes, and as she looked at the shocked blonde in front of her, a giant smile started to grow on her face. "It's you."

  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

"Emma?" Regina called out through the castle, her long white dress swinging back and forth with each step. Her hair was pulled back into a gentle braid, a white gold crown placed securely on the top of her head. It was fall, the weather changing and the sudden chill bringing goosebumps across her exposed back. Her keen eyes scanned the hallways, for any movement or noise from her loud and irritating wife.

"Fuck!" She cried out, and Regina ran, bursting into the room. Emma was in the middle of changing the baby, when he decided he wasn't done, spraying up into the air and almost hitting Emma with his urine. It was a baby Emma and Regina found on their most recent trips to a neighboring town. It was destroyed, left in shambles from a raid, from soldiers from the West. The beginnings of an incoming war. The baby boy was the only one left, the survivor, mewling in a cradle at the steps of a burned church. Of course, they took him in, adopting him as their own. "Jesus, kid, you're going to stain my dress and then Mommy's gonna kill me. Is that what you want?" She cooed, tickling his side and receiving squeals in return. "For Mommy to kill Ma?"

Regina let out a gentle sigh of relief, stepping up as Emma finished. With a wave of her hand, the baby boy was dressed in the most adorable little outfit, white with golden and blue trims, fit for a little prince. His flecks of dark hair falling loosely over his head. "Watch your language."

"He can't even talk yet, Gina, I got a year or two of free cursing."

She shot her a look, and if it wasn't for the smile playing on her lips, Emma would've been scared. "We're going to be late for his presentation."

"Which, might I remind you, is ridiculous. We're waiting to reveal his name, wouldn't that suggest that we don't even know his name yet?"

"It's tradition, Emma. It's his first introduction to the subjects." Regina reached over, picking up the baby and smiling wide at him before pulling him close and peppering kisses on his face. It was surprising just how quickly he stole their hearts, with his adorable little smiles and giggles. "What do you think Henry?"

* * *

  
  
  


_ 10 years later. _

Henry was strong, fast, smart. Within a few months, he was able to beat Emma at swords. Of course, with wooden swords, he was still young and learning. He seemed to have inherited Emma's agility, her speed and strength, along with Regina's brains and posh mannerisms. He was the culmination of their best and worst qualities. The culmination of their love. He had a penchant for causing trouble, running through the halls of the castle pulling pranks and playing with his friends. He had an active imagination, dreaming up different worlds and galaxies far away, spending months just in his own worlds, bringing Regina and Emma into them, playing make believe. He had a thirst for adventure, always tagging along with his mothers wherever they went. Just as today, when they went to examine the ruins of an old abandoned city from the last war. It was falling apart, the cement and wood and ash crumbling with each step.

Henry was riding on his horse, a young little colt, bred from Emma and Regina's horse. He was speckled white and brown and Henry has cleverly named him Checkers. He hopped off of his horse with practiced ease, holding onto his reins as he followed behind his Mom. His dark brown hair was flopping with each step, almost reaching his emerald eyes. The town was filled with nothing but dark singed wood, black with soot and ash, and it was almost hard to even breathe. Something shining caught his eye, and he walked over, picking up a worn leather book with golden embroidery. In cursive was written the words,  _ Storybook, _ and Henry immediately flipped through, landing on a detailed picture.

"Ma?!" He called out, turning to show Regina the page. There in colorful ink was a drawing of Snow White, holding a baby in her arms, the baby was draped in a gentle rich blanket, the name stitched in cursive violet ribbon. Next to Snow was a man, someone Emma recognized instantly. Her long time friend, David.

"The only one to break Regina's curse," Henry read, his frown deepening on his face, "Was Queen Snow White and King David's daughter Princess Emma. The Savior destined to destroy the Evil Queen once and for all."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. Thank you <3 Please, make sure you guys give lots of love to Dragoon23!!!!! Absolutely incredible art!!!!!!!!!!!!


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